Gushing Scarlet
by Pandorica 11
Summary: "After. After whatever tortures Fury could concoct, you would appear as a friend...as a balm. And I would cooperate." Two months following the Tesseract fiasco, someone else falls from the sky, and Loki's statement may turn out true, after all. Because something more sinister is coming, and if agent Romanoff is going to be of any help, she's got to sort her own problems out.
1. Prologue

_"Um, hello Romanoff. I was just telephoning you- I got your number from Stark, actually, and I wanted to check up on you...just to make sure things were fine, you know. Hhm. Um, actually, none of us have heard from you and Barton said you needed your space after the New York fiasco and everything. I just hope your doing alright...I'm doing swell. Yes. So, If you get the chance, call sheild. They'll connect me to you..never got around to getting a cellular phone, see. Well, take care then. Goodbye."_

Agent Natasha Romanoff closed the voicemail on her cell phone, sliding it into her coat pocket, and contemplated upon the message she had just received.

She frowned slightly, and burried her chin more deeply into her scarf to keep out the late october chill. Rogers was a nice guy, and had been an excellent partner in battle back in New York, but Romanoff was feeling particularly hesitent to make interaction with anyone, not just the overfriendly Captain. That was the reason for her vacation off of SHEILD's grid, as well as the fact that she had needed time to recover from the recent events. She needed to be out of reach, if only for a little while.

She though back to her last interaction with the avengers, post-shwarma, after they had sent Thor and his brother back to Asgard. Barton had pulled Natasha aside, adressing her_._

_You're leaving soon, aren't you?_ He had said quietly, _I know you well enough to guess that. Just don't dissapear completely. You are valuable to sheild, and to the rest of us, too. I'll clear it with Fury, and make sure you're not bothered, but take your phone. You never know what might come up._

Of course, Romanoff didn't want to know if anything came up. In fact, knowing about a mission while she was on leave that she was not part of made her antsy. She needed this; To be able to get away, clear her thoughts for a while, relax.

So Natasha travled to Switserland, then to Belgium, then finally to Moscow. Barton had stayed true to his word, and Natasha had been left alone until now. Rogers needed something, she could tell. A mission? A girlfriend? Something to occupy him other then herself. Romanoff wasn't interested in the boyscout in blue and red, dispite whatever affections he might hold for her.

Romanoff adjusted her umbrella to sheild off a new gust of rain.

Had it really been two months since the tesseract had opened the sky above NYC, pouring Chitari into the city below? To her, it felt like yesterday she had pushed Loki's staff into the tesseract, and watched as Stark plummited back to earth from the space portal. Missions weren't supposed to be like that.

They were supposed to be passing, fast to complete and fast to be forgotten. Yet, it was a big deal to Agent Romanoff. It had taken the whole group of Avengers to protect the city, and Natasha could recall what a difficulty even that had been. Maybe, just maybe, that justified Natasha's long absence from duty. Saving the New York - no, the whole world, gave Romanoff reasonable grounds for her abrupt reclusion. She needed to recover.

The real question was, did the difficulty of the mission give grounds for her to wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat?

_No. _Romanoff surpressed the thought, sighed, and pulled the phone out of her pocket again. She had taken a walk along one of the damp city streets, under a steady drizzle of rain, and was currently at a bridge that crossed the bleak Moskva river that threaded its way through Moscow. She looked about at the surroundings of stone and metal, taking in the smells of rain on pavement. It was a beautiful city, granted, but maybe it was time to get back to her duties. Maybe it was time to go back to her friends.

She thought back once more to what words with which Barton had parted,

_Nat, the Avengers saved the world. If you need it, we'll - I'll do the same for you._

Romanoff pulled out her phone.

She had some calls to make and a plane to catch.

"Look, Tony, I'm really sorry about the floor..."

"You think I'm mad about the floor? This is such an improvement! So much better then the original, isn't it Pepper?" Stark questioned the slim, strawberry-blond as she passed him the following day's itenerary.

"Well, I've no objection to leaving the 'improvement' in, but don't expect to play golf in here again. And absolutly no rollerskating." Miss Pots knew her boss extremely well.

"But"-

"No. Here, look over your plans for tommorow. Its a busy day, so you may as well get ahead."

"Ever cheerful, are we? No time for relaxation? You're killing me Pepper...or you will, at least." Stark said dryly.

"No, Stark. I'm sure you can handle killing yourself just fine without my help. But if you don't review _this_ tonight, at least, you'll have much, much more then death to worry about." The billioner and his female assistent shared a moment, while Dr. Banner sighed, looking over his handywork while sipping on a bloody mary.

The waxed floor of the newly-renovated flat at the top of the Stark tower shined, for the most part. In the center of the room, framed by granite inlayed into the floor, were the imprints of the Asgardian god of mischief that Banner's green friend had so obligingly placed into the floor.

"Perhaps you'll sign yor work?" Stark said, as he came and stood beside Banner, "I've got a sharpie ready, if you're interested. I do like encouraging the arts."

"Tony, be nice." Pepper chided, still holding the itinerary that she had been unsucessful in giving Stark. She tilded her head, looking down at the dent on the floor.

"I think I see where Loki's head hit... see? There...and there, too."

"Now whose not being nice?" Stark questioned her accusingly, adding, "You are a woman of double standards."

"Shush." She said, and attempted to get him to accept the digital tablet again.

Banner shook his head, and went back to the bar on the far end of the room, leaving the two to fight out there differences. He checked his phone.

"Well, thats nice." Banner said to himself, then called out to Stark, "Agent Romanoff is back in town."

"And about time, too. You know, there are some people who I really like irritating, and she is one of them. Second to you, though."

Pepper scowled in Starks direction, but said to the mild doctor, "Well, invite her over. Oh! And tell her to come to the gala here tomorrow evening, too."

"There's a gala? Why didn't I hear about this?" Stark said warily, filling his glass with scotch.

"If you paid any attention to the itineraries, you would."

"Well, then. Natasha Romanoff officially has my permission to come to my gala tomorrow evening...why are we having it again?"

Pepper rolled her eyes, and filled him in, adding, "You're a genious inventor, if only you put in half the mental effort into the orginizational side of things. Its part of the hospital rebuilding that was necessary after the New York fiasco we all remember so well."

Banner nodded, sending a quick message to his fellow avenger in town. It would be good to have her back. He also shot a call to SHEILD, informing Steve about the development. That kid was crazy over her, maybe he'd have a chance this time around.

Natasha Romanoff greeted her empty appartment late in the evening three days after her messege from Rogers. Over her stay in New York, she had become accustomed to spending as little time in her residence as possible. There was training to do, she had always reasoned, why put effort into decorating or filling a living space with useless memorabilia or photos? The plain, dark furniture served the Agent's purpose. An appartment was to sleep and eat in, the world outside was to live in. Natasha had firmly stuck to this idea, until that night she arrived back.

Something about not being greeted by people or pets or...well, even photographs made her feel unsure for the first time. There was that sting...no family, gone, gone, gone-

No.

Natasha pursed her lips, and dragged her suitcase to the bedroom to begin unpacking. Unless it could serve some useful purpose, it was best to supress the past. Always.

Had she become this pathetic?

Romanoff stopped in her tracks, remebering a time when ignoring or forgetting the feelings of the past wasn't a difficult task to do. Supressing the unpleasentness had been second nature - surly the constant training from her youth had taught Natasha that.

No, Romanoff was beginning to lose that sharpness.

_You're losing your edge, becoming soft, childish._

She had to keep fighting those urges. Emotions be damned. You either use emotions to manipulate people, or your are manipulated yourself.

So when did she let her guard down?

Her mind wandered back to the flying landing-craft, deep in the belly of the ship, a chamber encased in glass... But Natasha didn't delve further into her thoughts.

Instead, Romanoff dragged herself off to go to sleep. She was ready to rest, finally.

Agent Romanoff was back at SHEILD first thing the next morning. She had decided that her laps in emotional control was due to lack of action. It was time to get another mission.

"Agent. Welcome back."

"Fury." Romanoff inclined her head, greeting him.

"You can bet I'm glad to see you. You know, there are reasons you work under sheild, and I'll tell you, you're skills have been sorely missed. But your trip, how was that? How is Moscow at this time of year?" Fury questioned, as the two people walked along a corridor of the vast SHEILD complex. It struck Natasha as odd that here she was again, back at her old job. Things could settle in, get back to normal.

"The...vacation served its purpose. And Moscow was lovely." She asserted, turning into the training wing, "But I suppose its back to work now. What's my next assignment?"

"Have you heard about Stark's gala thats happening tonight?"

"Yes, I had heard that there was something to that effect going on."

"Well, I'll have information about your next project by then. Show up, and you'll get your mission briefing."

"Sir, with respect, I'd prefer not to go-"

"Thats an order. Look, your an excellent agent, and a nice girl, too, if anyone could get to know you well enough to see it...the thing is, you need to keep up with your fellow agents. We all hate teambuilding, but its a duty we all have to complete. You haven't seen your fellow Avengers in months, so do yourself a favor, and go and have a good time."

The two split off, and Romanoff made her way to uniform up. The two months of jeans and blouses had been a nice change from her normal leather attire, but She was ready to get back to work, and that meant getting back into her suit. She felt a sense of comfort in buckling her belt, clipping on her ammunition, and sliding a gun into the hip holster. Romanoff studied her reflection in the washroom mirror, and decided that her hair needed a trim. It's smooth red waves brushed she tops of her sholders, making it an inconvenient length for any real action scene. Romanoff frowned a little, thinking back to her long locks that she used to wear and how inconvenient it had been. She highly prefered her short hair, for it was easier to take a target down when there wasn't all that hair. Was short more attractive? Not that it mattered, of course. Beauty, like emotions, was irrelevent unless one used it to manipulate others. Natasha raised her eyebrow at her reflection, then exited the lockerooms, making her way up to the archery to see if she could find Barton.

"You are a sight for sore eyes."

"Rogers." Natasha said, in neutral voice. The Captain wasn't wearing his signiture flag suit, but even in his leather jacket, he still had the too-unassuming air of a boyscout.

"So the gang is coming back together now. How was your trip?"

"Uneventful."

"Good...good. And will you be around for that gala tonight?"

"I guess I'll have to. Fury said I'd get my next assinment breifing there. And something about solidarity with the team."

"Well, that's not so bad. Starks gathering can be fun...in a way. Granted, he'll probably come up with some stories to impress the guests- but they'll probably be true stories, so one can almost forgive him...and the food is always good."

"True. Well, I'll be there, but I can't promise that I'll enjoy it."

Rogers walked along side of Romanoff as she made her way up through heavily secured halls lined with weapons. Rogers explained that, since the Chitari had invaded, SHEILD had been busy updating their security with retreived technology from the speeders and the giant metal flying turtles. The orginization had also made progress at the other Sheild headquarters that had collapsed due to the Tesseract's destructive power. Also, designs were in place for a new base in New Mexico. Apparently, SHEILD had hired Jane Foster, an astrophysicist, who had recomended the location because of Asgard's link to the location. The facility would be home-base for further study of the bifrost. Granted, the bridge had been broken, but Rogers said that Foster believe that SHIELD could gain from the study of the phenomanon related to it.

"Do you think that the Asgardians will try to repaire the bifrost with the Tesseract?" Romanoff questioned, pushing open the doors to the indoor range facility.

"If Thor can get his people to agree. I believe he would come back, if he could."

"Natasha! Welcome back." Rogers and Romanoff looked up to where the voice was coming from. Barton was perched against the side of the balcony that overlooked the range. He swung down off the side, and met up with the two avengers.

"How was Moscow?"

"Wet. Cold. Same as ever."

"And yet, somehow I recall you saying it was your favorite city."

"Maybe I can look past the wet and cold, and still see the beauty."

"How sentimental." Barton said, a little mockingly.

Romanoff changed the subject. "So. Will you be going to the oh-so-popular gala occuring at Stark's place?"

"Can't see how I can avoid it without getting on fury's bad side. It'll earn me some points with him." Barton said, withe the slightest hint of bitterness.

Romanoff frowned in concern. "What's going on, Clint? Is there something you're not telling me? If Fury is trying to punish you in some way for what happened back-"

"Don't worry about it, Nat. Everythings fine."

"It better be."

Steve Rogers felt a little uncomfortable during this interchange, but used the moment of silence to split off and go do some training down in the cellars of the Facility.

"There wasn't anything you could have done, you know." Romanoff stated, offhandedly, "Fury has nothing to blaim you for."

"I almost killed you."

"No, Barton, thats beside the point. It wasn't you, it was him- that thing. We've gone over this before"-

"You know what its like, Natasha. To not be in control. When Loki changed me, I was concious the entire time. I felt my actions, and...I liked it. I liked doing those things. I still remember hating you, when I was going after you. What do you think its like, recalling emotions that shouldn't even be there"-

"Shut up." Romanoff said, a little louder then she intended, "Don't torment yourself. Get over the past, be thankful that its over."

The tense conversation paused, and slowly the mood relaxed again.

"Look, I'm sorry about that... but you know do know what I'm feeling. You feel the same thing every day, don't you?"

_Waking from nightmares of screaming and scarlet flames and happiness all the same._

"Not if I can help it." Romanoff said shortly, and the two figures exited the archery range.


	2. Things Sought For

Agent Romanoff categorized social gatherings into two groups: those in which she was the undercover SHEILD agent, suave and decisive, and those in which there was no obligation for her to be anybody but herself.

When one becomes good at playing roles, and Natasha was extremely good at this, it is difficult to laps back into one's normal character. Natasha could be the sophisticated lady in the satin evening dress, but inside she was merely replaying the scenarios from previous missions.

Arrive at location. Exit vehicle, check guns in hidden leg-holsters. Slip into party, then blend into the crowds of elite that spent their leisure drinking cocktails. Participate in small talk. Identify target. Turn on the sexy, and get invited to dance by said target. Manipulate him into disclosing whatever information is necessary. Or, if it is the purpose of the mission, do away with the target. Slip out.

Only, for the Gala at Stark's, there was no target. There was no mission to be completed, no character to play. Natasha felt, for the second time that day, a bit too unsure of herself.

_Mask it, Romanoff._ Natasha ordered herself, climbing out of the taxi into the chilly night air of NYC. _Play your character, everything's going to be fine. What is your character, again?_ _Reserved, polite, and well-versed in small talk. You can do this. Fury will arrive by the end of the night, and then it will be back to work._

She climbed the steps of the impressive tower into the large foyer, looping her instructions for herself in her head.

_Reserved, Polite, small-talk. Reserved, Polite, small-talk._

"Romanoff! So glad you could make it to my humble gathering." Stark greeted cheerfully, turning to her from a conversation he had been having with Bruce Banner. He was the life of the party, and looked it, too, wearing a tux with ease and drinking champagne from a tall glass. "The doctor here said you wouldn't show up"-

"No, I didn't"- Banner interjected, unassumingly.

"But I knew you couldn't keep away from such a wonderful night of revelry all for the benefit of the East-Side Hospital. Such a good cause."

Pepper, who was standing beside Stark, shot him a dirty look, saying, "It's the west side hospital, Tony. You had better not make the same mistake when you give your speech." She then greeted Natasha.

"I have a speech?" He asked, in mock anxiety, "I didn't prepare for a speech."

"That's why I did. Here you go. You're on in five minutes." Pepper added, handing the Billionaire a sheet of paper.

"Well, great to see you, Romanoff. I've got some wealthy donors to shmooze with, while the night's still young. Get a drink, pretend you enjoy having fun for once." Tony said, and Romanoff had to repeat her phrase in her head so as not to send some cutting retort in Stark's direction.

The night didn't seem to go as badly as Romanoff had first believed it would. At the start, she had a lengthy discussion with Bruce Banner on some recent SHEILD scientific developments and listened to Starks speech beside while standing Pepper. After it was over, the CEO of Stark Industries shook her head, saying, "He didn't follow the speech."

"At least he kept the bragging down to a minimum."

"All in the cause of charity." Miss Potts stated ironically, and moved on to speak with some patrons.

Romanoff got a bit of tactic comparison in with Barton over a couple of drinks, and then Rogers showed up and joined into their conversation. Somehow, Natasha made it through the evening without the strong urge to hit Stark over the head or snap at Steve for some comment.

However, Rogers did eventually ask her to dance, and Natasha complied, hoping to pass the time before Fury showed up. She was an excellent dancer- anyone of her targets could have said that, if any of them were still alive. She was well-versed in Tango, waltz, Salsa, and Latin, but had to call on her Swing dance and Charleston skills to match Steve's antiquated style of dancing.

"Did you miss New York?" Steve said, over the loud sound of jazzy swing rhythms played by the band at the corner of the dance floor.

_Small talk. _"Yes, the weather here is more pleasant then it is in Moscow."

He pulled Romanoff into a more-complicated move that involved slightly more concentration. Perhaps Romanoff had hoped that this would limit the conversation, but Steve's stimulated physique and reflexes made the multi-tasking of dancing and conversing laughably easy.

"And how long will you be in town?" He asked.

"As long as it takes to get my next mission in order."

"Swell. So, what will you do until then?"

"Train. Study."

"Dance, maybe?"

_Damn. _"Pardon?"

"This is nice," Steve said softly, as the steps of the dance pulled the two figures together "I used to want to go swing dancing."

"Used to_ want to_? You never went dancing before, back at your home?"

"I also used to be a lot shorter."

"I see. And after your…updating…you never got around to going out on the town." Rogers gave natasha a twirl to the rhythm of the music, and was silent for a moment.

"I had dancing plans. With a girl. Before the plane crashed, and all."

"It's only been nearly seventy years. She might still be alive, if you'd like to take her up again on those plans." Romanoff said shortly.

It took her a moment to realize what she had just said, and cursed in Russian.

Something like this always happened when she let her guard down during social gatherings. _Polite! You forgot to be polite, you идиот! _

"Steve, I'm sorry-"

"Don't worry about it."

"Honestly, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I believe you."

"Really! I mean it."

"Natasha, please. I know you didn't mean anything by it, I trust you."

Even while the two continued to dance, Romanoff plunged into her thoughts. _He trusts you. God, you're fellow Avengers. Give him the respect he deserves._

But she hadn't. She had respected him as the Captain, the strategist of the Avengers, but as a person - that was a different story. There had hardly been an interaction between Steve and Natasha that had not ended in her saying something cutting to him. Yet, there was no good reason for her _not_ to respect him. Yes, his old ways got on her nerves, but he was a good guy.

So why had she been so rude? And it wasn't just this night's comment. Natasha thought back to her whole treatment of Rogers, for the length that she had been acquainted with him. He was a man out of his time, coping with a changed world. No wonder he seemed a little needy at times- he was lonely. And what had Romanoff done to help him?

…

Exactly.

And she felt guilty.

Natasha couldn't bring herself to look up at Steve's face, and instead studied his suit-tie.

_Say it, Romanoff, _She ordered herself.

"…I trust you too."

"Would you trust me enough to let me take you out dancing sometime? After your mission, I mean."

"Well, you'll be out of luck trying to find someplace that plays your type of music for dancing…"

The song finished, and Rogers skillfully twirled and dipped Natasha for the big finish.

"I wouldn't be opposed to trying something new."

The audience and those who had just finished dancing clapped for the band, and dispersed, leaving the two Avengers out on the floor.

It felt wrong, like something wasn't settled yet, so Natasha spoke up, saying, "I accept your invitation. You…deserve it."

"That's- that's swell. I'll give you a call, and we'll set a date. Good?"

"Yeah, good. Thanks for the dance, Steve." Natasha said, and turned away to get a drink.

Clint Barton watched her approach the bar, and gestured for her to take the seat beside him. His fellow agent perched herself on the stool, and asked for a vodka. At the bar, the noise from the crowd was significantly limited, offering an open environment for conversation.

"The strong stuff, hmm?" He commented of her choice of drink, adding, "I saw what you did for Steve. He's been wanting to go out with you for some time."

"How do you know I said yes?" Romanoff queried, lifting an eyebrow.

"He looked pretty happy after you danced…And I'm not too bad at lip-reading."

"You never stop spying, do you? The truth comes out." She replied, wryly.

Barton smiled at his drink, then said, "What I'm trying to say is, that was a good thing you did. In accepting his offer, I mean. I approve."

"Thank you, then," was the short reply.

"I've known you for a long time, Nat. We both are pretty familiar with each other's strengths and weaknesses, and I've got to say, you've done a good job tonight. You're a keeper."

Romanoff smiled inwardly. She valued Barton's opinion more then anyone else in the world, and his comment meant a lot to her. If he believed that she could do better at dealing with Rogers, if he believes that she could get over this rough spot in her life, then perhaps she had a chance to come out on top.

"…and, you clean up nice." Barton added teasingly, looking over his fellow agent's deep blue evening dress.

Natasha sent a wry expression in Clint's direction, and took another drink, stating "It's not as good as the vodka in Russia."

Banner came up to the two agents at the bar, looking particularly cheerful.

"Good news, Romanoff. Your briefing's here."

Natasha felt an enormously large amount of relief flood her senses.

For anyone who has put deep emotional involvement into a particular project or job, but has taken a break from it, the lack of purpose can be quite overwhelming. As for Natasha, she only fully realized how much she needed to work when Banner announced that Fury had arrived. Finally she could occupy her mind with something other then stupid nightmares and the bitter past.

Perhaps it would have been better to leave off taking the vacation at all, if only to have less personal time in which to linger over unpleasant topics of thought. It was either face the problems, or push them aside with something else.

It was too late for Natasha to do anything about that now, since the past was passed, so she cast away her doubts, and went to meet Fury. They held their briefing in one of Stark's conference rooms on the fourth floor.

Fury gave Agent Romanoff the complete run-down on the assignment, including information on her target, schedules, blueprints of buildings and facilities, and a list of dates, information on the target's family, and anything else applicable. This time, it wasn't a take-out mission so much as a observation one. Romanoff was strangely disappointed, as her previous inactivity made her itch for a mission that required physical exertion. Yet, it was SHEILD's decision of which agent went where, and Romanoff felt it wasn't worth it to question authority.

The SHEILD director and the agent finished the briefing in time to catch Stark's closing speech back in the grand foyer and hall below. Romanoff, Barton, Rogers and Fury looked on as Tony gave a few toasts and said his last few words to the gala attendees.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you all for being present to help raise money for the hospital damaged a short while ago. I have to say, there was a lot of damage done when the Chitauri invaders were here. Obviously, I wasn't paying attention to who attacked the hospital in particular, since I was busy saving the the world and all, but I can say with confidence that the Avenger initiative did away with whoever was responsible for the hospital's damage. Now it's up to me, and you, and the city of New York, to fix the things that have been broken, to help the people who have been hurt by our alien friends, and to make damn sure that these alien friends never come back again. Thank you all again, and have a great rest of the night!"

Amidst the clapping, Stark caught Romanoff's eye, and gave her a sort of half-smirk. She returned him an approving nod of her head with regards to speech. Charisma was one thing that made Romanoff felt a lack of in herself, so she admired the trait in Tony Stark. Perhaps there was some envy in the nod she gave him, but if there was, Romanoff did her best not to show it.

She turned to Fury, who seemed to be occupied on his phone. Some unreadable expression flickered on the face of the director, as he read a message.

He shook his head, and finally said, "Romanoff, we're going to have to call your mission off."

"Sir?-" Romanoff began, confused, but was interrupted.

"You too, Barton. In fact, I want all three of you off your current assignments." Fury stated, quickly dialing a number on his phone.

Before turning away to make the call, he said, "We've got a…situation in New Mexico."

**Author's note:**

**Here you go, second chapter. It should probably be mentioned that I won't be updating this frequently for the most part. I'll definitely have a new chapter at _the very least _once a month, but depending on inspiration, I may be putting up chapters every day. We'll have to see how it goes. Anyway, I have a lot of inspiration right now, so expect to see many more chapters through October.****  
**

** Also, apologies for the previous chapter's lack of editing, I'm pretty sure there are some ****blatant misuses of 'your' and 'you're' and 'its' and 'it's'. I think I've been more careful this time.**

** I love reviews, FYI. If you have any critiquing to give me, I'd like to hear what you have to say so I can improve the story and _you_ can get to read something you like. I'm not opposed to suggestions about how the plot should go, either. Just let me know.**

**Cheers!**

**Pandorica**


	3. Things Discovered

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Avenger plot or characters or anything associated with Marvel.**

Agent Natasha Romanoff was used to being out of the loop about some things. Long ago, back in her early years when she was still in the service of the underground U.S.S.R., she was told just enough information for her to complete a mission, no more and no less.

For one thing, that helped Romanoff distance herself from the victims of the Black Widow program's forces. During her time there, she had been trained to view targets as pieces of a giant chess game. Sometimes it was necessary to do away with common pieces, not just the king, in order to win, and if Romanoff didn't know the reason behind one particular mission, that was fine. She herself was a chess piece, not the strategical player behind the game, and it was her imperative to follow commands.

After she had the run in with Barton, after he convinced her that a new life was possible under the direction of SHEILD, Natasha had been given a chance to see her work as a bigger picture. Granted, SHEILD did not open all of its files to Romanoff, but she was given a better idea of what she was actually doing, and who she was effecting.

This both impaired and improved her work as an agent. For one thing, the greater access she had to files that surrounded a particular target, the more leverage she had in manipulating them to do SHEILD's will.

On the other hand, she learned about target's family and friends, about what they did and how they spent their lives. Although SHEILD did not have Natasha taking people out as a mission so much, she began to think back at the people whose life she had previously terminated without so much as a second thought. It wasn't until Romanoff could see her power as a destructive force to _real_ people that she realized how much of a chess piece she had really been for the Black Widow agenda.

And then the nightmares came. First rarely, and then more frequently, Romanoff began to relive her missions while asleep. Her subconscious tormented her with looping scenes of families she had killed, the hospital she had burnt to the ground, and all number of atrocities that she had commited. So very much blood, gushing out in brilliant scarlet. It came to the point where Natasha Romanoff had to devote huge amount of mental power just to block the memories of the past and live day by day.

It was for this case alone that Romanoff wished to be kept in ignorance.

In other cases, however, it made her impatient.

Two hours after Nick fury had given Romanoff her assignment then suddenly taken it away again, she, Rogers and Barton were still out of the loop. As far as Natasha could tell, there had been an incident of some kind at the New Mexico SHEILD base. An incident important enough, it would seem, to get three of SHEILD's best agents on the job.

After Fury had informed them that they'd be shipped off to the southwest for some unnamed task, he left to deal with something else, leaving the agents to head back to base, and catch the next aircraft to New Mexico.

Romanoff understood that some things required the precaution of extra secrecy in briefing, but the fact that the group was already an route to the mission destination, and had still not received any conclusive information on what they would be dealing with, left her feeling irritated. The three had suited and armed up in the back of the jet.

Barton sat on one of the built-in benches that lined the side of the aircraft, fill in his quiver of a variety of both technical and explosive arrows. He frowned as he worked, probably pondering the task that was ahead.

"I don't like it." He said finally, addressing Romanoff, while keeping his eyes on his work. She had been looking out of the window towards the east where the sky was beginning to lighten, but turned to face her friend.

"Me neither. He should have given us the mission briefing first."

Rogers, decked in his armor that reflected the classic super-hero costume of the forties, shook his head.

"It's the Bifrost," He said quietly, with ominous prediction "I'm sure of it…Natasha, remember what I was saying about Jane Foster?"

"The Astrophysicist? I recall you mentioning her."

"She was the head of a department at the New Mexico center, and pretty much the reason that SHEILD built a base there in the first place. Maybe… maybe she found something. Maybe they found that the portal was fixed."

"You think Thor's back?" Barton questioned.

"That wouldn't justify sending half of the Avengers at such short notice." Romanoff interjected, loading her pistol with an angry determination.

"So. You think something else has come through? Wouldn't the Asgardians monitor what passes though the portal? And that's assuming that its been repaired, something which we don't even know." Barton added, attempting to reason out the strange occurrences.

"I hate not knowing." Romanoff stated.

"But maybe we can figure this out. Alright, so Fury sent us here without giving us any information on the incident. I think we can safely say that something big has happened out there, but it needs to be kept secret, maybe even from some departments _in_ shield. So, Fury puts us three on an airplane, and sends us off to deal with the situation when we get there. Swell." Rogers continued, putting his face in his hands in concentration, "Us three. What can we gather from that?"

There was a pause in the conversation, with the only noise that of the jet's engine and Romanoff unloading and reloading her gun in a distracted manner.

"Avengers." Barton said finally, adding, "But only three of us…it's big, but not big enough to call out those Avenger members not directly officiated with Shield."

"They don't need Stark or Banner?"

"Not yet, at least."

_No._

Romanoff stopped her fiddling with her pistols. _It couldn't be._

"What is it, Nat?" Banner questioned, concern evident on his face.

"It's Loki, isn't it?" Romanoff questioned Rogers, "He must have come down through the Bifrost, and they must have captured him. And now they need us. We've got the experience to deal with him."

There was a stunned silence, and the three sat back wonderingly.

"Well, that's a reasonable conclusion." Rogers stated finally, "But I hope to God that you're wrong."

Romanoff turned back to the window, and watched the top edge of the sun peek over the horizon.

Of course SHEILD would need her if a threat like the god of mischief was to come to earth again. Her serum-enhanced reflexes and physical abilities as well as her skills at manipulation made her an invaluable means of at least keeping at bay, if not controlling, the Trickster himself. She had the power.

So why this hesitance to face her mission? Wasn't this what she needed? To get back to work?

Back on the Helicarrier-floating ship before the Chitauri invasion, with a layer of impermeable glass separating the two, Romanoff had confronted Loki. In the end, she got the information that she needed out of him, but she had made a crucial mistake.

She had exposed her real character to him.

Even with her extensive training in the Red Room, Natasha Romanoff had done the one thing that a manipulator must never do, offer real material with which to be manipulated.

She had red on her ledger, Loki knew that, but she had _show_n him how much it effected her. She had shown him how weak she was, beneath the trained killer. That was the justification enough for Romanoff's concern.

If he was back - and there was reason for the group of Avengers to believe that this was the case - then she was compromised.

That…_thing_ would do everything in his power to get what he wanted. He would use Natasha, she was sure of it.

_At least you can prepared for it,_ She consoled herself. There was nothing to be done now, except mentally brace herself for the onslaught.

Romanoff looked back at Barton and Rogers. This was her team. If she had a chance, it would be by sticking with them.

It was midmorning by the time that the aircraft landed in New Mexico. Romanoff noticed that the air was particularly chilly, as she, Barton and Rogers made their way across the runway into the facility. As with most SHEILD bases, this one was set into the bare landscape as much as possible, in order to avoid more suspicion then necessary. What little baggage the group had with them was immediately sent to the agent quarters that were prepared for them at short notice. The facility was still under the process of being finished, and had an air of incompletion and mild disorganization that did not characterize other SHEILD bases.

Whatever incident had happened, it had shaken up this branch of SHEILD. Even the agents and scientists that bustled around the newly-arrived group had a frazzled mood about them.

A young female agent with shoulder-length brown hair in a mildly-wrinkled SHEILD uniform greeted the group.

"Thank god you're here. Fury said he'd send you right away, but things around here have been crazy, and I'm new to this whole organizational-directing thing." She said, distractedly, adding, "I'm Foster, by the way. Agent Jane Foster, astrophysicist. I read all about you and your work in New York, and I just want to say, I'm really impressed." She shook hands with the three.

Romanoff interrupted the introducing.

"Let me be frank with you. Last night we were suddenly assigned to a mission here in New Mexico, and since then, all three of us have had no information given to us as to what exactly we're dealing with. So if it's possible, could we get on to why we're here?"

Desperation rose to Foster's face.

"It's been awful. I'm not trained for this! I'm the lead scientist here, but the directer of the base here is out with mono, and I'm at a loss._ He_ came last night. We'd been monitoring the Bifrost's coordinates for the past two months looking for signs of activity, and only just last night, we got new readings. It opened. When the team drove out, we found Loki out on the ground, unconscious."

So that was it. The Avengers had been right about that.

"Unconscious?" Romanoff questioned, playing the scenario in her head.

"Yeah. We loaded him up, and he's currently in the most secure room we have here. I immediately contacted Fury, and he sent you. But the thing is, this information is big. Like, really, _really_ big. I trust Fury, and since he told me to keep this top-secret, that's the way it's going to be."

The last time that the committee above SHEILD had been kept informed about the situations in which the Avengers were involved, New York City had almost been Nuked. Nick Fury was wise to hid the god's presence.

Barton spoke up, eyebrows knit into a frown. "He hasn't come through like a conquerer... That's significant. So we just have to figure out why he was unconscious."

"Maybe it's a ploy to lull us into a sense of security." Rogers put in, "Is the Bifrost still open?"

"There's no way to know from our side," Foster said, massaging her temples, "I've gone over and over possibilities of what might be the reason he's here, but I haven't gotten anywhere. None of us here have."

"And Thor. He's not here?" Romanoff questioned, studying the female scientist.

"No…"

Romanoff knew the connection between Thor and this girl, she had heard him speak of her. She wondered whether Thor had anything to do with Loki's presence, or if he had had any control at all. Certainly, if the Bifrost was open, wouldn't Loki's brother be here too?

_Why is he here?_

Foster lead the group through long corridors and down an few elevators to the lowest level of the facility.

"He's still out. We've been monitoring him all night, and thank god he didn't wake before you came." She brought them to a outer room that looked into a chamber via a large glass window.

"Don't worry about the glass. It's reenforced. That entire room is secure, but even so I don't feel quite comfortable here." Foster said, crossing her arms, looking warily towards the window.

Romanoff looked through the window at the chamber before them.

In the center, resting on a bed that reminded Natasha of a hospital operation table, lay the prone form of Loki.

Her eyes narrowed, studying the figure. From what she could see above the blanket that covered him, Loki still wore his Asgardian clothing, but the cape and helmet and armor was missing. His hair, which Natasha recalled as being more orderly, was spread across the plump pillow, offering a stark contrast of black on white. The normally sharp-featured face seemed relaxed- innocent almost. Natasha frowned.

The Asgardian could manipulate and trick people, even while asleep.

"Rogers is right." She stated, evenly, "This thing must be some kind of trick. We need to be on our guard."

Captain Steve Rogers took position of director at the facility. Foster was visibly relieved, and went back to her research to see if she could come to any more conclusions about the situation from the data on the Bifrost. Thankfully, Rogers had the thought to have one of the three Avengers be on standby near Loki at all times, along with the other staff down there, and he took the first shift. Barton and Romanoff made their way to the assigned quarters to get some much needed sleep.

Natasha found her rooms to be serviceable, furnished with a nice, full-sized bed, comfortable chairs, a private bathroom, and a roomy closet, fully stocked with casual clothing and uniforms all in her size. She was particularly grateful that someone had thought of that, as there had been no time for her to pack for the trip here.

She disarmed, climbed out of her uniform and into the shower. Turning the water as warm and strong as it would get, she washed away the stress that had built up over the past night. The water pounded a relaxing rhythm onto her shoulders, and she stayed in for twenty minutes before getting out again, drying off, changing into a pair of cotton pajamas, and climbing into bed.

Her sleep was deep and strong, and if she had nightmares during it, they were forgotten by the time she had to get up.

The disorder that had built up over the past night at the SHEILD base was smoothed away under Roger's skillful leadership. He took control, and with decisive action, was able to get the whole facility back on its feet, all while Natasha was still asleep.

Her shift to stay in the monitoring room beside the god in repose began at six in the evening, and she met up with Rogers down in the recesses of the facility. He was chugging down on a cup of coffee, and relaxed when he saw Natasha enter.

"I won't say this isn't fun, but I'm in need of some sleep." He stated, stretching and getting up out of his chair that faced the guarded room.

Romanoff nodded, and took his place as sentinel. Rogers was about to exit, but turned back. "You know, maybe one of these times during Barton's shift we can go out and have that dance."

Romanoff smiled sardonically, "Or just have right here. It's not like there's anyone to be bothered besides the sleeping one."

Rogers laughed, and exited.

It was good that they were on better terms, but all the same, Natasha hoped that he didn't get any big ideas about a fairytale relationship between the two. She had said it before, and she'd say it again- love is for children. Better to have a strong friendship based on trust then a romance based on foolish emotions.

Natasha gave a half-sigh, before sitting back and crossing her legs, preparing for the long evening ahead of her.

The first few hours passed easily, but towards one in the morning, Romanoff was beginning to feel impatient for her shift to end. The florescent lighting was less-then-comforting on her eyes, and she felt eager to move on to something that _felt _more productive, at least. This was not the type of mission that she had wanted.

Even before the SHEILD monitor who sat at the medical equipment, monitoring Loki's vitals, could say anything, Romanoff knew that the Asgardian was coming out of his deep slumber.

His pupils began to flutter beneath his eyelids, indicating that he was dreaming, or at least, in a lighter form of unconsciousness.

Natasha sat forward in her seat, as an expression that she could not decipher flickered across his face. His blue eyes opened.

** Author's note:**

**I feel like I have a hard time with story pacing, as far as getting to know how much time I should be spending with one particular scene or character. I mean, since the story is centered around Romanoff, I get that she's going to have more story time then, like, Steve Rogers. Should I try getting the supporting characters to have more story content? Opinions, anyone?**

** Again, I do like reviews. I would be most pleased indeed if you would leave one, even if it's only to say that I need to re-learn grammar (because I probably do). **

**Also, if anyone is interested in beta-ing, that would be ****awesome. I'm still a bit new to the system here, but if you are feeling particularly patient enough to help me through it, let me know.**

** Cheers!**

**Pandorica**


	4. Things Remembered

** Disclaimer: I do not own the Avenger plot or characters or anything associated with Marvel.**

When Natasha was a child, she would have dreams about playing hide-and-seek. Sometimes the game was whimsical and bizarre, as dreams can tend to be. Other times, it was a borderline nightmare. In that case, something would be chasing after her.

At first, in her unconscious world, it would seem that Natasha might have a chance at evading what ever unnamed horror she was trying to escape. She would hide under a bed, or in a closet or cupboard, and attempt to become as still as possible. It was then that the dream would turn truly frightening, for as the monster or thing approached Natasha's hiding place, she _knew_ that it would find her. It was inevitable that she would be caught, but the few moments that it took for the creature to discover her, she was filled with complete and abject horror. And just as she was caught, she would awake in a cold sweat, still filled with terror of that thing's discovery of her hiding place.

This was the way agent Romanoff felt as she watched the god of mischief wake up, on the other side of the glass partition.

There was a moment of a strange, undefinable panic that flooded her senses. She could hardly understand why she feared this so strongly, Natasha just knew that once their eyes had met again, she'd be vulnerable.

And that was the most terrifying thing that Natasha Romanoff could imagine.

Monitoring agent that worked behind her began listing off changes.

"The heart rate is coming up again, and the respiratory system is functioning at the conscious level. He's waking up. I'll go find the Captain, he'll want to be notified immediately."

The Romanoff sat back in her seat, attempting to mask her total unease with a kind of calm resignation.

Loki stirred, pushing himself up into a sitting position on the bed, his eyes darting about his surroundings, taking in his situation. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, then froze.

A calculating half-smile rose to his face, and he turned to the window, his eyes catching Romanoff's gaze.

"And here we are, once more." He stated, as if amused by the situation.

"I trust you slept well." She replied, evenly, through the intercom, since the rooms were separated so securely, and sound could not pass through the window with ease.

"It was the most restful sleep I have had in a long time, I assure you."

There was a pause in the talking, in which time Loki got off of the bed and straightened his Asgardian clothing. He came and stood before the window, hands behind his back, looking through it at her in a matter-of-fact manner.

He studied her, and spoke, "I realize that we did not get off on the best start the last time I saw you, Miss Romanoff."

_No, we did not. _She agreed with him in her head, but merely raised an eyebrow.

He continued, speaking carefully, "But I should rather like to fix that, if it is possible. May I ask where I am?"

"The Captain will disclose to you whatever he feels that you should know." Natasha stated.

"So he is here, too? My, what a reunion. And is agent Barton around? I've missed our conversations."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Loki, as he turned from her, pacing the boundary of his cell.

"Let me be frank with you." He said, "I' have had a rather...difficult past few months, and I should greatly appreciate a little bit of understanding. Maybe even some _sympathy_."

"And why," Natasha spoke, perhaps a little _too_ harshly, "Would you deserve _that?_"

Loki turned back to her suddenly.

"Would you like to know what happened, after my dear brother took me back to Asgard?"

"I can't promise that I'll believe what you say."

The god gave her a bitter smile, and said, "Fair enough. Odin, my adopted father, the most _benevolent_ ruler of Asgard, had me tried on the spot for the offenses I committed against the puny human race. My punishment was most benevolent, too. Eternity, bound in the deepest crevices in Asgard beneath a poisonous snake, whose dripping venom burned my skin with every drop. Can you imagine a pain like that? Could you stand a punishment like that, with the knowledge that the very man who raised you from infancy bound you to this fate?"

Romanoff knew exactly how that felt.

"No, I don't."

"The human capacity of feeling is so very, very small. They experience pleasure so poorly, which it a great pity. But they cannot comprehend pain like those from Asgard can. And I assure you, my pain was great indeed. This-" Loki gestured about the cell, with a laugh, "This does not threaten me, mortal. I have felt so much. Do not flatter yourself by pretending that Shield has the power to break me."

Loki's condescending tone angered Natasha, but her poker face remained firm.

"And yet you escaped."

She saw Loki falter for a split second.

"Thor convinced Odin to replace my sentence with something more…merciful. After two months with the serpent hanging above my head, I was taken out once again. Do you know how Thor arrived in Midgard, and why?"

"I read his file."

"Thor acted against my father, and was banished. He lost his powers, but earned them back. So, he asked Odin to give the same fate to me. Only, I don't get my powers back. I suppose I'll be stuck here for a good long while." The god finished speaking.

Romanoff's head spun. His story made sense, for the most part.

Yet, the very fact that Natasha was feeling inclined to trust him reenforced in her the notion that he was only trying to trick her.

"And what now?" She challenged him, sitting up in her seat.

"I suppose I'll have to get used to the mortal way of life here in this prison."

"No." Natasha said, shaking her head slightly, "I bested you once, Loki, don't attempt to fool me now. You aren't going to stay here, not if you can help it. I'd bet that right now you are thinking of ten different ways to make the best of your current predicament."

"In case you hadn't noticed, if I had the ability to get out of here, I think I would have done so by now."

"You're a manipulator. That is something that the Asgardians can't take away, even if your magic is gone, that fact of which I am still in doubt. You wouldn't be here if you couldn't help it. So. Either you are telling the truth, or you have some other agenda."

"And wouldn't you like to know which, little spider? "

The agent ignored the insult, and lowered her voice to an ominous, accusatory tone.

"Don't patronize me by feeding me some story about your resignation to stay here."

"And what would you have me tell you, then? Something that you would actually believe?" Loki questioned quietly , leaning into the window, hand resting against the pane of glass. Romanoff had a flash of Deja vu. She thought of another situation like this, not too many weeks ago.

"Perhaps," the god continued even more quietly, vehemence filling his voice, "Perhaps you are correct. Maybe I am just playing that my powers are gone, in order to gain the trust of the Shield organization, disarm it by surprise, and gain control. But what would you do if that was my plan? Attempt to thwart it by letting me loose? Or lock me in a stronger cage? If I am as much of a manipulator as you human beings seem to believe, thicker glass will mean little to nothing. And if my powers remain, then experience indicates that little can be done to stop me from doing what I intend to do. There is no cure for the predicament in which Shield finds itself. If you believe these things to be true, and if you have any care for your personal safety, then I urge you, make for the nearest airplane."

He finished speaking, just as Rogers entered, with Barton on his heels. Loki looked surprised, and stepped back from the window.

"Nice to see you're awake." Rogers said dryly, "I suppose there isn't anything you'd like to tell us about why you are here?"

Romanoff was the one to get the most information out of the god that day. She briefed Rogers on the conversation between her and Loki, while Barton took his turn in the Monitoring room.

"I feel like we are in possession of a volatile time-bomb. Did Fury mention when he would be able to get here, when you spoke with him?" Natasha asked, as the two made their way to the kitchens on Base.

"He needs to be able to get here without drawing the attention of the committee, so its possible we'll have to make do without him for a few days, at least."

"This base isn't the ideal location to hold a war criminal trickster god, and yet, relocating him is what Loki would expect us to do. I'm at wits end about this. You can't even get a straight answer from him, and even if we could, we still would be inclined to believe it false." She said, dejectedly, but seemed to cheer up after entering the mess-hall, the aroma of fresh cooking playing about her nose.

"I suppose we'll have to collect all the information he'll give us, sort it out, and try to make some sense of what is really going on."

"Do you think it would be possible to contact Thor through the Bifrost? That is, assuming it is even open still."

"We can talk to Foster. If there's a way to do it, she'd be able to figure it out."

Steve and Natasha gathered a breakfast of Ham, eggs and cereal, before finding a table at which to eat.

"But you are right," the captain said thoughtfully, slicing carefully into his pile of ham, "Thor would be the one to seek to find a real answer as to why Loki is here, and how we are supposed to deal with him. Would he really have had any part in sending Loki to earth? He must know how destructive his brother is, even ignoring the whole magical-powers aspect."

"Thor has heart, and loyalty to family. That is one thing that might have blinded him to see the results of sending Loki here." Natasha added, after taking a sip of hot coffee, "Perhaps, and that's assuming Loki's tale of the serpent-torture punishment is correct, maybe Thor's actions were rash, only to get his brother out of the punishment as quickly as possible."

The two exchanged ideas over their food, after which Rogers went out to take care of some administrative duties, and Natasha went to train.

Romanoff, after the face-off with Loki, felt the strong urge to relieve her pent-up frustrations by viciously attacking a sand-filled punching bag. She made her way to one of the vast storage units in the facility, since shield had not yet finished adding the training unit to the base. Buried deeply into the New Mexico landscape, the large, crate-filled room maintained an evenly cool temperature for physical exertion.

After changing into a tank top and shorts and binding her knuckles, she swung the punching bag up, and started throwing quick jabs at the solid mass.

Soon it became a rhythmic progression of punches and kicks, and while Natasha's body pushed its limits, her mind drifted elsewhere.

One thing that some people do not realize is that agents like these do not _lack _emotions, nor do they have the perfect capability to hide emotion indefinitely.

Something that Loki had said that morning kept coming back to her.

"Could you sta_nd a punishment like that, with the knowledge that the very man who raised you from infancy bound you to this fate?"_

Natasha knew that Loki had some idea of her history. As a manipulator, it would be foolish for him to go into anything without specific knowledge about a person's past. The past is a particularly vulnerable spot in relation to the art of manipulation, this was something Romanoff knew well. Had it been his intention for Natasha to think back to her own father? Was that something he perceived as her vulnerable spot?

Ivan Petrovitch was the only father that Romanoff had known. He had been kind and caring to her as a child, but he also was the one who first involved her in Black Widow.

Natasha frowned, and pushed herself harder, throwing a kick at the swinging bag of sand.

For the first time, Natasha began to wonder why he had done so. When she was in the Black Widow program, she had been grateful to him for putting her there.

It was an elite opportunity that Natasha, as an orphan, had been lucky to get a place in. Yet, after years of experience, she knew that people didn't just do things for other people.

There was no such thing as a free lunch.

So what had been Ivan's reward? What did he gain from getting Natasha started on her career of blood?

_ And more particularly, why did Loki mentioned it?_

Romonoff cursed inwardly, and dodged as the punching bag swung backwards forcefully after a blow she had given it.

If he had wanted her to think about Ivan and his intentions, then it was the best idea to not do so. The mind is a hard thing to gain complete control over, and memories of the man began surfacing in Romanoff's head.

_A chilly day, with a drenching rain. The young Natasha held her surrogate-father's hand as they made their way down a jagged alley of some city, and through the door of a dim shop._

_ He spoke with a woman behind a dust-covered countertop, who brought them to the back…they passed into some kind of facility, a hallway, lined with doors._

_ Natasha peeked though one of them to see a group of scientists surrounding a young girl in a chair. They had her hooked up to several devices, and were monitoring her on their machinery._

_ Ivan tugged on her hand, pulling her away from the door. As they continued down the hall, Natasha heard the girl's scream issue from it…_

_ "She will be the greatest of her kind." A tall man said to Ivan, "Your donation is most valuable to our cause."_

_ "And all in the name of the cause." Ivan replied._

_ He hugged the girl quickly, then pushed her towards the other man. She stared wonderingly after him as he turned, and walked back up the hall, away from her. That was the last time she saw Ivan Petrovitch for a very long time..._

_ Pain flooded her small form, pulsing and contorting with even new wave of it. Natasha struggled against the bonds that tied her down to the surgical bed. This was the first injection of the serum that would set her apart from the world and make her different, special. And all she could think of was Ivan, and why he wasn't there to rescue her._

_Harder._ The perspiration made Romanoff's red hair stick to the back of her neck, but she continued attacking the swinging form of sand, as if it was the cause of all of her troubles.

_Natasha was older this time. A blossoming seventeen year old, with death written on her heart. And she loved it. She loved Black Widow. She loved Ivan for placing her there…_

_ She approached a tall building, with only one agenda: killing her target, whatever it took…_

_ Later, flames consumed the structure; tall, brilliant pillars of scarlet that ate away at the hospital and its contents. _

She finally stepped back, realizing that her knuckles were bleeding, despite the wrappings that Natasha had put on them.

The effort had left her feeling tired and hot, but it wasn't enough. She needed more pain, something to distract her from these tormenting images.

Perhaps sleep would wash away the memories.

**Author's note:**

** A word of thanks to those people who reviewed! Because of your critiques and pointers, I was able to write up an outline of where the story is going, and I think its going to be a good one.**

** Keep the reviews coming! **

**-Pandorica**


	5. Things Disliked

The redhead was on a mission. In one hand she managed a steaming mug of coffee, filled almost to the brim with the caffeinated beverage, and in the other she expertly balanced a heavily-loaded tray above her head. On it was a breakfast of fruit, imported from California, a platter of pancakes drizzled lightly with syrup, a plate of piping-hot bacon, ham, and eggs, and a glass of juice.

Her improved reflexes were one thing that made Natasha Romanoff thankful for the biological engineering that was performed on her in her youth through the Black Widow ops. Not only was her fighting improved, but if she wished, Natasha could be the best waitress on the continent. She did not, however, wish to be a waitress.

In fact, the very mission which she was on made her frustrated and slightly embarrassed, and Romanoff was quite relieved that the members of the Avengers, but most particularly Tony Stark, were not there to see her domesticity. She was a fighter, not some kind of breakfast-bearing homemaker.

This sentiment was something that stretched not only over her intent of bringing the captive Loki his morning meal, but over the entire assignment. Babysitting the god of mischief was not Romanoff's idea of a useful mission. She had a strong desire to be _out _there, somewhere, gaining intelligence or making use of her physical abilities. Certainly, Loki was extremely dangerous. The incident in New York had proved that fact to Shield, the United States, and, in fact, to the whole world.

At the same time, feeding a man breakfast did not strike Romanoff as being a particularly large step in protecting the world from this most-dangerous Asgardian.

She maneuvered her way down a dimly-lit winding passageway to the lift, where she had to re-shift her load in order to hit the elevator button.

Decending into the recesses of the base, Natasha finally came to a large metal door, with a security system to one side. She sighed, going through the routine voice check, fingerprint check, and password submitting before entering the florescent-light-bathed monitoring room.

Barton looked like hell. Dark circles under his eyes indicated that he had, indeed, done his task of staying awake to keep an eye on his charge. Natasha could only guess what kinds of verbal torment he had undergone at the hand of Loki.

"We really need to get Rogers to shorten these shifts." He told Romanoff, accepting the coffee that she had passed to him, "I can't believe I still had two more hours to go."

He stretched in his seat, shifted, and settled back down.

"Well, I'll be here after that, but I'll speak to him about re-thinking the shift schedule."

Barton was an excellent agent, but he did not possess the physical stamina that characterized the super-soldier serum supported his two fellow Avengers at the base. Natasha, relieved of one of her burdens, walked to the even-more heavily secured door that lead into the monitoring-room's antechamber. Again, she went through the security motions, walked through the door, shutting it carefully behind her.

Across the room, leaning back in a chair, sat Loki. Natasha was impressed that even in his depressing surroundings, his air remained lofty, unimpressed, and...well, godlike.

"I hope you do not expect me to consume that." He said, eyeing the agent as she set the breakfast tray on the metallic folding table at the center of the cell.

"It looks revolting." He sneered, perhaps trying to get a reaction out of Romanoff. She shot him a passive glare, and stated, "I'm sure no one here will mind if you starve to death."

"If only I could. The Odin-father neglected to take away my immortality when he removed my powers."

A bit of Romaonoff's heart sank. _Will this continue infinitely, then?_

Loki stood, and approached the breakfast, musing, "What would be worse, the pains of starvation, or having to consume that revolting pile of battle-boar refuse?"

Natasha began gathering the blankets from the bed to be laundered, keeping her front towards the god at all times, and replied, "Take it or leave it."

"I'll leave it." He said shortly, "But I desire something else. The past few days have been tedious, and I require a diversion."

"Require is a strong word," she said, "I'm certain you can survive a while more without an entertainment."

The god, who had used the fork to poke the pancakes, turned from his occupation. He looked highly amused. "Are you trying to _punish _me? How low of you, Romanoff. I expected so much more of an agent of the High and Mighty Shield. Granted, it is of little consequence. But that is why it puzzles me so. You are attempting to take out your frustration on me, are you not?"

She continued at her task in silence, so he continued speaking.

"I realize that it is a monotonous task, keeping watch over me here. Do you wonder why Shield put you in this position? Ah, yes. You bested me…once. Such a great achievement, from the point of view of that puny human organization. Do they expect you to get the better of me again?"

"As diverting as this has been, I have to leave now." She said, bundle of blankets in hand.

"But you'll be back. Every day, you'll be back."

Romanoff exited, but heard Loki speak out as she left, "I don't need a diversion anymore. You'll suffice for _that._"

_Doom._

In fact, that afternoon Loki made it his primary goal to make Natasha as uncomfortable as possible. Thankfully, she had brought a book along, so she had something with which to ignore the god during the length of her shift.

Face buried in the novel, she followed the tale of good and evil, while the god behind the glass partition occupied his time as best he could.

"What are you reading?" He asked, finally.

"Dostoyevsky. It's Russian."

"And do you like it?"

"It's Russian."

...

"I wrote literature, once. I was part of Literature, if fact."

"Good for you." Romanoff responded, absentmindedly. Her inattention bothered the god. The captain was willing enough to have a discussion with him, and the archer was easy enough to torment with stories about the Shield agents that he had killed under Loki's influence. This woman did not respond to the god's prompting, and he disliked her attitude. On Asgard, he may not have been as popular as his brother, but Thor had made sure he received the respect proper to a son of Odin. Infuriated by her indifference, he delved into the literature topic, hoping to gain some further response.

"So, why Dostoyevsky? Is he your favorite author? Or is some pitiful sense of Russian loyalty what attracts you to this?"

Romanoff's eyes left her page, and narrowed at the god behind the shield of glass.

"He offers excellent insight into the moral struggles that originate in human suffering. And I appreciate his sense of humor."

"What I wonder is why you would need to read a novel to see moral dilemmas from suffering. Your life has been evidence of that. Sheild's agenda is evidence of that now. "

"Perhaps it isn't so much the content, as the development."

"Or maybe you are trying to justify yourself... The brilliant agent Romanoff-"

Romanoff frowned,

"Oh, don't be so surprised for me to give you such a title, it is no exaggeration. But your faults are many and your mistakes are numerous, and that isn't an exaggeration either. Isn't that something to do with human literature, too? The greater the hero, the more tragic is his fall. And you- such skill and potential. You try so hard to redeem yourself from your past, yet is remains as bloody as ever. Can you imagine that merely following Sheild's direction, the mission of the…what do you mortals call them? _Good Guys?…_that somehow it will make up for what you have done? It attempts to remove yourself from the bad people, you blindly follow those that you have deluded yourself into thinking are good. You wonder why you still question your actions, but the answer is simple. There is no good group of the people. There are only those who try to be _good_ but fail, like Sheild, or those who don't try in the first place, like Black Widow. You are still causing so much pain, even under the jurisdiction and protection of the mighty Sheild. If you are looking for the development of moral dilemma and human suffering, look no further then your own life."

"I'm going to get some coffee." Natasha stated, and abruptly stood. Automatically, she walked out the door, leaving her book on the seat. The god would be fine until she came back. Her breach in Roger's orders did not leave her feeling guilty.

"Back again?"

"I've got my coffee."

"Would you like to continue our discussion?"

"Take the book, read it. It hardly matters." She walked it to the door and deposited it through the designated slot.

...

"I desire sustenance now. But not the fried food I received earlier. I want coffee."

"Wait for your dinner."

She brought Loki more food that evening, before she left at the end of her shift. A dinner of grilled steak and steamed vegetables, the best of what the kitchen had to offer, seemed to satisfy his appetite. Romanoff, wary as usual, set his place at the metal table. He paused before beginning to eat, gave the meal a sniff that looked more like a sneer, and expertly sliced off a bite of the red meat.

Natasha had gotten ahold of a second copy of the Dostoyevsky book she had been partway through. The two figures on either side of the glass partition performed a silent face-off. Loki consumed his dinner in small bites, never letting his narrowed eyes leave his opponent. She faced the god, but read her story resolutely, never giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he was disturbing her reading.

The only moment she looked up was to watch as he tasted the coffee. He sipped the steaming beverage, letting its taste fill his senses. His nod indicated to her that he approved, but the smile that followed the nod merely proved to unnerve Natasha. At least Rogers would be in soon.

When he did arrive, as Steve entered the door and she exited, Natasha murmured, "I am having great difficulty _not _seriously considering disobeying Fury. Banner and Stark need to know about this. It is dangerous having them uninformed."

"Need to, or would it just make you feel better about this whole thing?"

"Both." She answered, and slipped past him into the passageway and back upstairs.

The doctor jolted slightly. His phone was buzzing, indicating that he had received a new text.

He glanced at the message on his mobile, then picked up his pace.

He was making his way up one of the polished staircases of the star tower, where Tony had insisted that he remain after the Chitauri incident. It was a calm environment, something that Bruce valued greatly. Pepper, obliging as always, had cleared away some space in the higher-basement levels, and Tony had decked it out as a laboratory where the doctor could conduct his research. There, he spent his days running over tests and treatments and…cures.

That ever elusive elixir, something to get rid of his big green problem. Tony didn't approve of his overzealous search for a fix-all solution to Bruce's life, but he didn't address it- not because of hesitance to anger the doctor, but because of friendship.

From Tony's point of view, Bruce needed to face the other aspect of himself, he needed to realize that the other guy was part of him to, not just a bad part, but an important part. He also needed to discover that on his own, he needed to come to the realization that the hulk was part of his character now, just like the suit was part of Stark.

Until then, the billionaire was fine with letting Banner putter around in his basement, until he could discover himself.

Banner's effort had been to no avail, of course. His hulk problem wasn't leaving anytime soon, and the doctor felt a need to step back from his research for the rest of the day, if only to get a breather, and put in twice as much effort when he got back to work again.

Bruce trotted up the last short flight of steps after the elevator to the lounge floor, and ran into Pepper as she was clearing away one of her projects.

"What's wrong?" She questioned in concern, seeing Banner's expression of perplexed worry.

"I need to speak to Tony. There's been a…development concerning a _friend _of ours."

"Friend? Is that a good friend or a bad friend? I have trouble telling which is which…" Stark stepped in, newly arrived off of the landing pad outside.

"It's the portal in New Mexico. Loki's back, and Romanoff wants us to be in the loop."

"Reindeer games. Good, good...How thoughtful of her to remember us- Pepper, make sure you remember to get Romanoff onto the christmas card list. And… call off the dinner reservations for tonight. I'm in the mood for Mexican."

Miss Potts gave Banner the _he thinks he's all that_ look, but smoothed her face to its pleasant expression, "Whatever you say, boss."

**Author's note:**

**See, I wasn't lying when I said I wouldn't update every day. I mean, I wish I could. But life and school has that stupid habit of getting in the way of the less-imprtant things.**

**Thanks again to those who have reviewed. Hint: If you want chapters to come more quickly, your input really helps. I read and over-analyze every comment, just so readers like you can get to read something they like, instead of reading something that I think they might like. ****_Par Example:_**

**_ More action, less dialogue? Less backstory? More backstory? _****These are things I need people's opinions on.**

**And, of course, flattery is nice and all, too.**

** Cheers, **

**Pandorica**


	6. Things Suspected

The night became day, as four large floodlights shed their luminosity over the landing pad at the edge of the Mexico SHIELD base. It was a chilly night, but for the few figures that stood at the edge of the pad, the brisk wind from above made the air nearly freezing .

Agent Steven Rogers and billionaire Tony Stark peered up. The sky was almost completely black but for a pair of lights that were fast approaching. The wind intensified, buffeting the agents and the base staff with a strong current of air from the oncoming helicopter's propellers. A series of flashing lights directed the chopper to its landing point, and several figures ran to clear the pad for the descending aircraft.

For a moment, Rogers was blinded by the chopper's headlights, until the helicopter came to rest, and the propellor's deafening whirring finally began to decrease.

Technicians ran up to the craft, quickly hooking it up with gasoline, and making the appropriate post-flight checks. Its side door opened, and from it emerged a figure in black.

"Sir." Rogers saluted Nick Fury, speaking above the hubbub of noise, "Glad you are finally here."

"I really wish I could have been here sooner, but things had to look normal. How've you been handling our friend? Or should I ask, how's he been handling you?" The director replied, massaging the parts of his face around the eyepatch, a habit that frequently showed when he was under a great deal of stress.

"We've managed, sir. But we've still got no answers as far as the reasons behind all of this goes."

"He won't speak?"

"No, sir, he's barely talking at all-"

"Even if he did, he's not to be trusted. God of lies, and such."

Stark came up to them, startling Fury. "And how are you?" He questioned the director.

Fury sent Rogers a questioning frown, but Stark interrupted.

"Its not Roger's fault. Natasha did me- did the world- a favor by informing me of this turn of events."

"Well," Fury reasoned, displease evident on his face, "This is a matter of extreme secrecy."

"And somehow our country would be safer if the Iron Man wasn't informed."

Fury sighed, and said finally, "What's done is done. Let's get inside."

The floodlights, the primary light source of the landing pad, switched off, leaving only faint illuminations from the truck headlights.

This sudden darkness left the the two agents and the director momentarily blinded, but once their eyes became adjusted to the minimal lighting, they made their way to the vehicles, and proceeded to the base.

The director visited Loki in the underground prison. After a series of questions put to the god by Fury, all answered to by a mocking silence, the directer called it a night. Stress was something best mended by sleep, and that was the next step of his master plan: a good night's rest. Tomorrow, they would begin to discuss options of how exactly this mission should go from there. Nick Fury took the lift up to the housing wing, and was about to find one of the spare quarters set aside for him before he was intercepted by Romanoff. She was displeased, and the very fact that he could read her emotions meant that she _wanted_ him to know that she was displeased.

"I suppose you have some complaint, agent?"

"Sir, I need to be transferred."

There was a moment of silence, while Nick Fury studied his inferior, assessing her situation. She stood before him, arms crossed behind her back, returning his gaze with an expression of firm decision.

"Well, do you care to tell me why you want a transfer?"

"This particular mission is not making the most use of my skills. I feel I could be of more use to Shield elsewhere."

"And that is your opinion?" He questioned.

"It is the truth, Sir."

"Romanoff, you are the only one I know of who ever managed to get the better of Loki- besides Banner, of course, but his methods are slightly more violent then this situation would necessitate- but never the less. Your skills of manipulation are invaluable to this particular case."

"Babysitting the god of mischief?"

"Exactly. The god of _mischief_. I need every means of backup I can get. And the thing is, we don't have one dangerous thing here, the upper workings of Shield are also a big threat. If they would go as far as to nuke New York and all its citizens, even though the Avengers were doing a damn good job protecting the city and the world, then who knows what the committee would order if they found out who is stowed away in the vaults. I need your skills, Romanoff. And your support for tomorrow. I'm planning a meeting to discuss the next steps, and with your support, we'll be able to secure our problem until we know exactly whats going on."

The agent pursed her lips, and reluctantly nodded her head in assent. "I'll stay."

Nick said goodnight and entered his room, leaving Natasha out in the hall. She stood for a moment, wrapped in silence, then turned away back towards her room.

The black-clad agent glanced at his watch, cursing. Clint Barton was running late. He quickly maneuvered his way down a dimly lit hall and up a flight of narrow metal steps, two at a time. Somehow, the night's sleep had him under its spell more strongly then average. Granted, during the day he had not been particularly at ease, so it was logical that his subconscious would take as much sleep as possible in order to recuperate. Now, it was up to him to pick up his pace, and make it to the meeting on time. The digital figures on his wrist now pictured an eight-zero-four.

_ Damn._

Clint, coming to the last flight of stairs before his destination, turned his jog into more of a gallop, and bypassed the steps altogether. Using the metal railings and many hours worth of built-up muscle and skill, he leapt up, swinging himself to the next floor.

Pushing through the double doors at then end of the hall, he came upon the meeting.

They had not started without him, thankfully. Barton slid into one of the plush seats beside Romanoff, giving her a wry look in return for the quizzical expression she sent in his direction. The group sat around a large, polished wood table, flooded with the morning sunlight.

That was one thing Barton had not seen in a while, having spent most of his time below ground in the Shield facility. He took a moment to appreciate it the warmth and light, before glancing about at who had shown up.

On the other side of Natasha sat Steve Rogers, leaning back in his chair and cracking his knuckles thoughtfully. Tony Stark sat opposite of Steve at the table, calmly sipping from a cup of steaming coffee. He appeared far too cheerful in the morning. Barton idly wondered how he could either dampen Starks mood, or at least steal some of his coffee. Perhaps the meeting would be finished in time to get the last bit of the morning's brew.

On either side of Stark were a few personnel that Barton did not recognize, but farther up the table Bruce Banner reclined, reviewing some kind of handout.

"Sleep in?" Natasha murmured, glancing sideways. "At least you're not late."

Nick Fury cleared his throat, and addressed the assembly from his spot at the head of the room.

"I'm sure you're all aware of why we're all here this morning. Several days ago, the Bifrost deposited a dangerous criminal here in New Mexico. Loki, Asgardian, is known for counts of global assault and widespread murder. Jane Foster, would you take it from here?"

The scientists stood up, gathering some notes in hand, and spoke.

"Um, yes. Nine days ago, the spacial observation team here got their first readings of irregularity from the coordinates of the spacial maelstrom. Up until this point, we had been…experimenting with the vortex- attempting to get some kind of contact with Asgard. There was a certain artifact, a kind of powerful staff that was wielded by Loki on his first visit here. Using its technology, we had been conducting tests and experimenting with the possibility of sending a message through the broken remnants of the Bifrost on the Asgardians' side. It was our great surprise to discover that the bifrost had been repaired, enough for someone to get through. As far as the reasons as to why we've got a dangerous criminal on our hands, science can't say."

A stir of unease swept across the meeting members. Hawkeye spotted Doctor Banner puzzling over some information in the handout.

"Is there any likelihood that these experiments caused Loki to be…summoned here?" Captain Rogers questioned.

"We don't know exactly what the staff does. Who's to say it isn't part of this?" Banner said quietly.

"Then again," Fury interjected, "Who's to say Loki's story isn't true? Maybe banishment here really is his punishment, maybe he was purposely sent here. It would be just as easy for Loki to tell the truth as it would be to lie. Besides, what would he gain in deceiving us?"

"He's the god of lies. You want us to trust him?" Romanoff said stiffly.

"Maybe just for once he is being truthful about this whole thing." Captain Rogers pondered. "Yet, there is no logical reason for him to lie to us."

"Besides the fact that its his nature to do so?" Stark said, sarcastically, drumming his fingers on the polished wood table.

"We can't rule out _anything_ yet, because we only have his word to rely on, as far as why he is here. The most we can do is keep his presence secret, for obvious reasons, and do our best to protect the earth from him. So." Fury stated, "Does it make sense for him to stay here? He'd be closer to the bifrost. If Thor were to come through, we'd get the answers we need more quickly. This whole situation would be contained, to an extent."

"Yet," Natasha said, "He'd be closer to the bifrost, the gate to far away worlds. A gate that is unstable, of which we know comparatively little. It seems a little like keeping the birdcage next to the cat's perch."

"Birds and Cats are nice and all," Stark interrupted, " But this isn't a theoretical situation. We currently have an Asgardian locked up in the recesses of this very building. We've seen what he can do, and we've seen his limitations. I think we can handle it. Our priority is to _maintain_ the necessary level of security. More guards, more guns. If we can sit tight until we can contact Thor and get him to pickup his brother, we should be all set."

This seemed to pacify the group, for the most part. Natasha stared icily off out of the window, and ignored Stark.

Nick Fury organized watches and guards and extra security measures and checks until further notice. The meeting adjourned, leaving Barton feeling dissatisfied. He had hoped that they would have more solid plans- something more concrete then continuing to check this Asgardian's every move until he could be gotten rid of.

Romanoff and Barton walked off from the meeting, and he heard her say, "Its not that simple. It's never that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"Even if Loki is telling the truth, don't you think he has a reason for it? Really manipulative people don't have to deceive you to get what they want out of you. All it takes is the truth, and how exactly you play your cards."

Barton fingered the edge of his quiver in thought.

Sheild could have all the guns in the world pointed at Loki, but he could still have the organization under his thumb, and no one would know the difference.

The one bonus to Fury's new system was the fact that each shift came around a lot less frequently. The directer still wanted an avenger, or at least a competent Shield agent, watching over the god at all times. It was a couple of days before the three agents cycled back into the shift. It was unpleasant at times, boring at others, and an all around tiresome task to perform.

Natasha and Clint used their free time one afternoon a couple of days after the meeting to take a walk about the barren New Mexico landscape. They came to the edge of a bluff, where a vast expanse of land spread before them. The sun hang low in the sky, casting a orange light on the two figures.

"Do you think," Romanoff asked, looking off at the sky, chin buried in her parka, "do you think we'll ever finish?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think we'll get too old to do this kind of work one day? Perhaps, I don't know…retire."

"That's not something I can imagine you doing, but I think its a logical assumption that we'll eventually become physically and mentally incapable of the average Shield mission…has retirement really been on your mind lately?"

Romanoff was silent, and Barton waited patiently for her reply.

"I feel tired…Too tired to continue some days. Too inadequate. I feel…disabled. And yet, Shield is the only thing that is truly protecting me from my past. I've got no family."

"Not yet…" Barton said quietly.

Romanoff turned to him, and let off a burst of chill, almost sardonic laughter. "Can you honestly think of me _marrying _someone? Starting a family?"

"Stranger things have happened, I suppose…"

"I'm a _criminal, _Clint. I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky to have gotten a second chance. Sheild has me under its wing, and as long as I stay there, I'll survive…if I'm lucky, by the time I can't complete missions anymore, Fury will have found some tiny unimportant office job in a corner somewhere. I'll most likely be at Shield until the day that I die."

Barton wasn't familiar with this side of Romanoff. He had hoped…but, at this point, it was unimportant what Barton hoped, or thought he hoped. He sighed inwardly, and glanced over to his fellow agent. She had become distracted by something up high in the distance.

"Is that…what does that look like to you?" Romanoff questioned, curiosity evident on her face. Clint's eyes followed her extended arm, spotting a flickering light on the curved arc of the darkening sky.

He squinted, then his eyes widened.

"_The vortex._"

The two glanced at each other, sharing the joint thought.

Thor?

By the time Romanoff and Barton made it back to base, things were getting hectic, particularly in the astrophysics laboratory, where Jane Foster was scurrying around like a madwoman. She was not the only one, of course. The scientists shouted out data to each other from their stations, while the domed ceiling of the facility flickered with spacial diagrams and blinking signals.

Barton knew next to nothing about astrophysics, but he attempted to comprehend the hubbub of information that swirled around the room.

"We've got a dramatically increased readings of energy surrounding the coordinates of the Bifrost."

"Heightened levels of spacial fabric disturbance."

"I'm getting an image feedback…"

"Foster, take a look at this!"

Jane Foster broke away from the general chaos to where Romanoff, Barton and Rogers stood anxiously awaiting the news.

"It worked!" She said, in an excited tone, "The staff finally triggered a reaction, and we've been reading signs of activity for the past hour." She gestured to where a complex mechanism of metal stood in a glass cage. An orb of bluish light made it difficult for Barton to make out anything particularly detailed in this cage, but he could see the length of the Chitauri staff. It was propped up so that the tip of it pointed skywards, shooting a faint beam of light through a specifically designed skylight.

Mesmerized, Barton approached the glass wall, and rested his hand against its cold surface.

The blue light pulsed and throbbed like some living entity, making the whole laboratory flicker.

The agent squinted into the brightness, completely lost in it.

He realized the extent of his mesmerization when he was jerked to his senses. Bruce Banner stood behind him, arm on his shoulder, as if he had just given the agent a firm shaking. The doctor leaded towards barton, and spoke a few words into his ear.

"Avoid the light."

Barton swallowed, and giving the light one glance, stepped away from it and went back to where his friends were.

Foster grabbed her coat and pulled it on partially, calling out to her group, "I'm going in. Keep monitoring the vortex, and I'll have my phone with me, so if the data starts going off, let me know." She turned to the avengers, "You with me? Lets go."

They followed her out into the adjourning plane hanger, where an ATV stood prepared for the group.

It took around ten minutes for them to arrive beside where the vortex would hit. The sky was churning, and a aurora-borealis-like glow lit up the night.

Foster was the first to jump of of the vehicle, but the rest soon followed suit.

She stood expectantly, hands in pockets, head tilted up towards the heavens, and Barton wondered how much of a disappointment it would be if Thor was not the one who came through.

"It might not be him, you know." He said, standing beside her, looking up as well.

"He promised me. He said he'd be back, some day. I trust him."

"Things don't always work out like you hope." He said shortly, thinking back to some castles in the sky he had built for himself in the past.

"Sometimes I feel pessimistic about how something I want will turn out, but that doesn't stop me from hoping."

The whole party stood with eyes pealed up at the sky.

In a single flash of light, the vortex deposited a figure a couple of hundred yards out in the darkness. The only source of light was the vehicle's headlights, which offered little help deciphering what exactly was out there on the New Mexico landscape.

Silence blanketed the group, until Foster's voice called out shrilly.

"Hello?"

She darted forward, and the rest of them followed, keeping hands near their guns.

Someone had the sense to turn on their flashlight, and they discovered the broad form of the Asgardian prince.

There was a moment of stunned silence while Thor squinted into the light that shone on him, until Stark said, "Well, welcome to New Mexico."

**Hola, lovely people. **

** It took a while, but here it is, a chapter for Thanksgiving.**

** I was greatly pleased by the reviews, and I've done my best to incorporate some suggested elements into this chapter.**

** Again, review the story if you have time. Things you like, things you hate, or just some nice juicy flattery to get me to write more often. **

** Cheers,**

**Pandorica**


	7. Things that Remain

The Asgardian's brow crinkled, with eyes squinted into the glaring beam of light that illuminated his face, clearly unable to see.

"Move the light from his eyes and let him see." Romanoff ordered horsely into the cold air. The flashlight's beam moved from Thor's hunched figure to the snowy ground, allowing a glow to bounce back up and faintly light the circle of people. It was still a very faint, so they had to adjust their eyes.

When Natasha could finally see, she grew confused, and turned, slightly embarrassed. In the darkened moments, Jane Foster had rushed forward and thrust herself at the god, arms wrapped about his wide frame, and was currently hugging him very tightly. From what Natasha could tell, he was obliging most willingly, but then again, she had turned away pretty quickly and had not gotten that clear of a view.

"I knew you would come." Jane murmured.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner. Will you forgive me?"

"…yes."

"No." Romanoff interjected, breaking into the romantic bubble. "I assume you are here because of your brother. You know your brother, and for that, you should have been here the moment he came."

"She's right." Rogers asserted, "His presence here on earth has been most disturbing to the peace."

Thor and Jane's embrace morphed into a half-hug, as Thor turned to face the rest of the group.

"Is he safe?"

"Do you mean to say, are we safe?" Stark questioned sharply.

"I see you are alive. Has he been causing trouble?"

"Do you honestly believe we'd give him the chance?" Barton said, arms crossed defiantly. "He's locked up, no thanks to you."

"He is of little threat yet, then." Thor challenged.

"Loki is a lying, manipulative fiend. He'll always be a threat, even when locked up." Barton replied harshly.

"I would have been here sooner."

"You should have been."

"It was beyond my control."

"You're a god, how hard could it be?"

The growingly-heated conversation cut off suddenly, for the captain interrupted with all appropriate authority.

"Enough."

The rest of the group stood around a little sheepishly, perhaps embarrassed at the outburst of harsh emotion that had emerged.

"We'll go back to base, and discuss this over coffee like reasonable people." The captain finished, and lead everyone back to the truck.

Rogers was true to his decision. Nearly an hour later, all of them had re-grouped for a second round of briefing, this time in the Kitchens, where coffee was fresh twenty-four-seven.

Seated around a nondescript metal table, the avengers, Nick Fury and Miss Foster cradled the hot cups in their hands, warming them from the night's chill. It was around four, and although the cafeteria was well below ground level, the air had that morning feeling about it.

Natasha noted that Barton was having a hard time of it staying awake, but the coffee seemed to help him, and he sat up a little from his hunched over position.

She downed her own cup, and refilled it from the pot.

"They don't have anything like this in Asgard, I assure you." Thor stated with satisfaction as he took a gulp of coffee, and Jane smiled at his statement. It must have been some kind of inside joke between the two. The chemistry between these two people perplexed and therefore annoyed Romanoff. She tended to find things she couldn't understand irritating.

"Back to our discussion," Rogers said, initiating the subject of the earlier disagreement, and addressed Thor in a businesslike manner, "Two weeks ago, we received your brother from the bifrost, an entity that we believed broken. Foster's team had been monitoring the vortex, and were able to be there to secure him before he gained consciousness. The first question, I believe, is what is the reason for this Asgardian's return?"

Thor cracked his knuckles thoughtfully, and answered, "After we left midgard- here- we returned to our home. Odin was…displeased with Loki. The last time he had been in Asgard he tried to take over the the Throne, so as soon as he returned the elders advocated that he receive his just deserts for that as well as for his trouble in Midgard. Asgard is advanced…have no doubt of that, but there are policies; Rules that dictate the punishment a person may receive for whatever crime he commits. Loki's former position has Odinson did serve to soften the blow of his punishment, but it was still severe. Global assault and treachery against the Throne are serious crimes." Here, the god hesitated, something obviously sitting heavily on his conscious. He did go on eventually, "His sentence was to be bound beneath a poison-dripping serpent. For eternity. If there is a thing that is barbaric in Asgard, that would be it."

Natasha Romanoff sat back, stunned. Thoughts rushed through her mind faster then she could register them, and she had to pause for a moment to sort them through. He had told the truth. That lying, manipulative, disgusting creature had told her the truth. But why? What was his purpose? What was his reason for bothering to go against his own nature, and be honest for once? A line of shakespeare emerged in Romanoff's head, from Macbeth ' And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence.'

Natasha tuned in to the conversation that had continued without her notice.

"…I couldn't stand to see my brother in such a state, and pleaded for his case. Odin was reluctant at first, but eventually accepted my proposal of giving Loki the same fate that I had- that he would stay on earth as a punishment for his crimes. But permanently…"

Fury frowned into his mug, but the god continued.

"Just like here, there is excessive bureaucracy in Asgard. I was not allowed to follow Loki immediately, since his banishment was supposed to be a punishment. Odin didn't want things to get more complicated then they were. The elders of Asgard have their own say in what goes on in the halls of Valhalla, and my rushing off to see that Loki stayed out of trouble would, no doubt, be misconstrued as sympathy for his treason. So I waited. As soon as Odin gave the word, I took the repaired Bifrost and followed him here."

"If…if the Bifrost was repairable, why didn't you come sooner?" Foster asked Thor quietly, as if some doubt had begun to burrow its way into her mind. She frowned slightly, waiting for his answer.

"We didn't repair it- well, we repaired the physical aspect of it in Asgard. The bridge was repaired, I mean. The broken link was what kept me from coming sooner, but you fixed that."

The startled silence confused Thor, so he went on speaking, "You did repair it, I assume?"

"Oh!…The scepter. The Chitauri scepter- we -we were scanning the vortex, looking for activity. No repairing was going on."

"Then the device must be more powerful then you believed. It healed the broken Bifrost, which allowed Loki's sentence to be completed."

Doctor Banner spoke up, "I looked at the data… it isn't repaired."

"Then to what do you owe the presence of the Asgardian wonder duo?" Stark challenged.

"Well, I have my suspicions. I _think_ that the scepter has been temporarily holding the vortex in place this entire time. Of course, I'd have to verify it. There are a couple things I'd like to test, too, if it'd be possible?" Banner asked Foster, who gave him permission.

"I suppose it is time to see exactly what power that staff has, now that we've been using it for a while."

Romanoff's own experience with the Chitauri staff had been short, but she still remembered the raw power she had felt with it in her hands. She had been able to close off New York from the invasion, a feat practically impossible, yet made easy with the use of that device. Was that how Loki felt, when he wielded the staff?

_Perhaps it had made him too cocky, constantly feeling that much power, and that was his downfall, _Natasha wondered.

"But the question on my mind is, what is _your_ final objective? Why are you here?"

"My hope was to convince the elders of Valhalla to take back their decision, but it is most unlikey for the present." Thor said

"For the present?" Rogers questioned.

"At least for the next few decades."

"The end may be in sight." Barton bit in sarcastically.

"Now, I suppose it is my purpose to protect my brother from Midgard and Midgard from my brother. I hope…to make repair things between us. If such a thing is even possible." Foster reached for Thor's hand, and held it sympathetically.

Romanoff was brought to consciousness by her cell phone's incessant beeping. Groping through the darkness in which she always kept her quarters when she slept, Natasha finally felt her phone and checked the time. Nine-thirty am... and look: a new message from Fury. Yawning, she pulled herself into a sitting position on her bed, and played her boss's recorded voice.

_"I'm assigning you to give Thor the general tour of the facility today, as well as bring him to Loki's cell. Keep an eye out for signs of potential trouble. I'd do it myself, but the Sheild upper committee is getting curious as to why a less-important location is receiving my presence so much. I'll be out for a few days. Thor is going to be waiting in the kitchens at 10."_

Annoyed at the disturbance in her sleep, Natasha sulked through her rooms, preparing for her day. A quick hot shower freshened her spirits slightly, but they came crashing down once more when she thought of Barton and Rogers and Stark, all happily asleep in their beds after the morning's early action. And of course, the fact that Natasha would have to visit Loki once again didn't make matters any better. She scowled at her phone and stowed it in her jacket, pulled her damp hair back in a loose bun, then exited her quarters.

Thor was punctual. He probably could survive off very little sleep and still be at peak functioning, while Romanoff was still sluggish from the lack of rest. The difference in the energy between the two avengers was prominent. While Thor posed many questions on the various aspects of the Sheild facility, Natasha did not elaborate greatly when answering.

"And this was constructed in only a matter of months?"

"Yes."

"I am impressed, but what of the quality of construction? In Asgard, the towers and parapets can take years to construct, but they last a millennia…"

Thor made frequent allusions to the greatness of Asgard, Natasha discovered, but she didn't mind as much as she thought she would. At least it did not depend on her answering, and for that she was grateful.

At 11:23 AM, Bruce Banner woke up. It was the kind of waking up that happened when memories from your consciousness start leaking into your subconscious, reminding you that you've got big plans for the day. He stood up from his bed, almost completely alert. He was on a mission.

At 11:52 AM, Agent Clint Barton was awoken from his sleep by the buzzer from his door. Stumbling up, still half unconscious, he fumbled at the door to his quarters. Squinting into the light of the hall, he realized that Banner was standing before him, gazing at him with suspicious concern. Barton then realized this was due to the fact that in his own clenched fist was an arrow, poised and ready to be plunged into an unsuspecting intruder.

"Do you sleep with your bow and arrows?" Banner questioned, nonchalantly.

"Ye-yes? Yes, I guess, I do. Um," Clint mumbled, eyes narrowed at the Doctor, "is there any particular reason you are here?"

Bruce leaned in, "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Have I been sleeping well? Have I been-I've been fine."

Banner's disbelief was evident in his face.

"I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd help me in the lab today."

"The lab? But why?"

"I need you're help in the testing of the staff."

"The Chitauri staff?"

"Yes. The very one. Will you?"

"Give me a moment, I guess."

At 12:35 PM, Romanoff swallowed, and turned to her companion.

"You ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." Thor replied, looking down at her. They entered the observation room side by side, both feeling not quite up to scratch. Thor may have been confident that morning, but concern about his brother was weighing heavily in his mind.

The observation room's familiar sight greeted Natasha's eyes, but she chose to suppress her distaste for the facility. It was a room, after all. Nothing intimidating. Not even the room that was being observed was that intimidating, either. Ah, but its contents: _That_ was something else indeed.

Thor stepped towards the glass partition, and Romanoff stepped back. She watched as Loki, who had been casually sitting back in a chair as they entered, got up and approached the transparent partition.

"Welcome to Midgard, Odinson."

"Brother."

"Have you come with your sympathies?"

"What?"

"Have you come with your condolences for my situation?"

"Well, yes... In a way… I _am_ sorry that you could not stay in Asgard. I am sorry that you ever joined league with the Chitauri scum. And I am so very sorry that you fell that day on the Bifrost…we used to be friends, brother. I am _most_ sorry that has changed. I have hope for the future, Loki. That things may be the same once more."

"You have always had great heart, Thor, but you lack the sense to use it with desecration. Indeed, it seems to have blinded you."

"The elders do not speak harshly of you, not so very harshly. They allowed me to visit you, did they not? I _am_ here."

"And that is where your blindness has come in. I am a traitor to the throne. The only reason you were allowed to come to me was because of their love for you. Tell me, when you pleaded for a change in my punishment, how long did it take? What did you say to make the elders of Asgard give way? What was it that changed the great Odin's mind?"

Thor's brow furrowed. "I told them to take mercy on you as Odin did for me."

" Incorrect. Our situations are completely different, and that wasn't what changed their minds."

"…not completely, perhaps."

"No, because you wish to see the best in people. And because you wish to see it, you do see it. Ponder upon this: what government would bring a traitor back into its hearth? Do you think I would have settled for this puny Midgard, when I was with the Chitauri? They gave me the possibility to claim it, but I would have gone farther, so very much farther. There was never a chance for me to rule Asgard as a loved king. I discovered that the day Odin rejected me for you. The only way to get utter power would be as a conquerer. And that could never be, not if Odin can manage it. So he has you. He has made you strong, and filled you with idealistic notions. He let you come here, so you would feel hope. He has made sure you felt loved, so that when your time came, you would return that love to Asgard, and protect and rule it, even from your own 'brother'. Can't you see how empty that love is? Because it is empty. Love isn't power. I've seen power, but love is not it."

"Cannot you believe me? Home could still be there for us."

"You are still not disillusioned. There is no home left, there never was. There were only two boys- no, there was a prince, and another child who never had a chance at being one. But he was offered a chance at being great, something he had wanted all along. So he took it."

The doctor and the agent made their way to the kitchens, picked up some coffee, and then continued on to the laboratory. Foster wasn't there, probably recuperating from the morning, but she had let her lab know that Banner had access to the staff. They showed the proper respect for him, because of his renowned research, but they also gave the two avengers an ample amount of distance in which to run the tests.

As they worked, Barton thought he saw Banner watching him from time to time.

"So," Loki stepped back, with half a laugh upon his face, "What will you do now? Stay to look after the troublesome brother? Make sure he doesn't harm the precious Midgardians? Or perhaps you'll come for visits, each one more distant then the last?"

"I will not give up hope, just because of your words."

"And that is why you are so pathetic. And be warned…keep a watchful eye on the humans, especially your favorite- Jane, isn't it? She's pretty, but I don't think she's strong." Loki caught Natasha's eye for a split second, "Some very small things happen, and people end up dead so quickly. You never know, this cell can't hold me forever."

Romanoff had noticed Thor's increasing agitation. Loki had too, and had been working his brother up into a fit of godly anger. Thor slammed his fist against the glass, face drawn fiercely.

"If you touch her…"

"What? What will you do?"

"Hold down that and that, will you? I've got this one thing I'd like to try. I'm going to penetrate the power field in the staff- can you adjust that?- and see if I can separate the elements of the staff itself. I think there's some kind of low frequency signal coming from it, and I'd like to see exactly what happens when I do- this." Banner said, and sent a power surge through the scepter. Instead of watching the device, however, he turned to Barton.

"What? Is it working?" Barton said, squinting at the light as its pulsing became stronger and faster.

"Well, would you look at that…" Banner shook his head, gazing at Barton.

"What? Tell me, Banner, WHAT?"

"Your eyes are glowing again."

Barton's eyes started to twitch, and he shouted, "Turn it off! Turn it off, damn it!"

Loki was convulsing. Rapid spasms shook his frame, and he dropped to the floor of the cell before words could be exchanged. Romanoff was at the door to the cell, thumping in the security procedures, rapidly muttering curses in Russian. Thor's hands were fixed on the glass, and he alternated between yelling at the monitoring staff to get medical help and cursing at his brother.

"Rogers, come down here now. We've got a prisoner down." Romanoff spoke into her intercom, and wrenched the door open. She proceeded cautiously towards the god, who lay prone on the floor. His eyes were glowing blue, but she could only see it when his eyes were open, and mostly they were closed. He was writhing in pain, clutching his head. Romanoff edged closer, and Thor stumbled in the cell behind her.

The thrashing continued, until for a brief moment or two, the movement and glowing stopped. His eyes were back to that piercing sea-green, but the rest of his face what deathly white. Thor knelt to one side of him, and Natasha to the other.

Loki caught her eye again, but this time it wasn't with the poisonously-knowing look that so often he wore. It was fear.

"Don't let it come bac-" He was suddenly caught up again in one more glowing spasm, before it all ended. There he lay, almost as if he was asleep.

"What in the name of Odin was that?" Thor said sharply, gazing down at the god.

**I'm sorry. I truly am. I meant to finish this chapter over christmas break in time for my december deadline, but life happens. Stupid life.**

** I hope this chapter makes up for it, though, since there is some good development. I'll write more soon, too. **

**Reviews are beautiful things, do not forget. They make the world go 'round.**

** Cheers,**

** Pandorica**


	8. Things Planned and Unplanned

Bruce stepped away from the wiring that threaded the Chitauri staff. Its throbbing glow that had been so bright and strong before now calmed down to a steady and faint pulsing blue glow. The doctor examined the device critically, and turned to his friend.

"I stopped it. How're you feeling now?"

"What the hell was that?" Clint demanded, glaring at Bruce while massaging the sides of his eyes.

"The residual link between you and the scepter. I'm sorry, Barton. I didn't think it would hurt you. Well, not that much, at least."

"Well, you thought wrong, then. But… you knew this would happen, didn't you." The realization struck Barton forcefully.

"I suspected that you were still effected by the staff, but I wanted to see how much. You had to be here in order for me to have known." The doctor said, matter-of-factly, thumping in some information into a tablet.

Clint's voice became threateningly low. "She fixed me. Nat broke the link- it should be gone."

"Perhaps it takes more for then a concussion for the connection to break. I still don't know completely. I mean, it can't be that bad. You haven't been doing harm, have you? No shooting Shield members? No murders?"

"No-oo. But that thing is still in my head, then? And my eyes?"

"They were that strange blue, but don't worry. Its gone now, back to normal."

"I've got a migraine, thanks to you."

Bruce handed Barton his cup of coffee. "Drink up. You'll feel better once you do."

Barton nodded towards the staff, watching it sit on its pedestal, still pointed up at the skylight casement.

"We should get rid of it."

Banner raised an eyebrow at the agent, "We can break your _link_ to it, I'm confident about that. Besides, that staff is holding the bifrost in place. You wouldn't want Thor stuck here, and I'm sure he wouldn't want to be stuck here either. It is also powerful."

"And therefore, dangerous." Clint said forcefully.

"And therefore, possibly, quite helpful. Something like that…" Banner mused, lost in thought while watching the glow. He came to, suddenly.

"It could heal me, you know."

"What?"

"I mean it. I could set up a corrective field with that thing- it'd take time, of course. But its a hope. For my big green anger problem."

Barton was silent.

* * *

Several floors below, things were getting hectic. Rogers came to the holding cell about the same time that the Shield medics arrived. Thor held his fingers beneath Loki's curving jawbone, checking the Catroid artery.

"He's got a pulse and…he's breathing."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" One of the Medics questioned. Thor proceeded to explain the seizure, and Romanoff backed away, making room for the extra people. She perched herself on edge of the cell's bed, and suddenly realized that she had been clenching her fingers so tightly that tiny crescent-shaped marks appeared on the palms of her hands, the imprint of her fingernails. She swallowed, and watched as the Shield personnel performed their evaluations. Foster had come to the scene as well, having been summoned by Rogers.

"They've got sensors in the room, right?" She questioned authoritatively, "You," she gestured at the monitors on the outside of the cell, "Have you got the life readings for the past few minutes?"

"Yes- take a look at this!"

"I'm just an astrophysicist, but even I can tell that much brain activity isn't normal. See that one section of time- right there." She pointed on the screen, "Hey, can we get Banner down here?"

"I tried getting ahold of him, but his intercom's off, I think." Rogers replied.

"I'll find him." Romanoff volunteered quickly , and maneuvered her way out of the cell.

"Good. See if Barton's around, too. I've got a suspicion that this is more then meets the eye."

"Got it." Romanoff replied shortly, and jogged her way down the hall. Something about seeing the god's body lie sprawled unconscious on the floor set her on edge, and she appreciated an excuse to get out of that place.

It was too small, and there were too many people. Natasha wondered how Loki felt, always buried beneath so many layers of concrete and metal in that small, small room.

* * *

Barton and Banner were startled when Romanoff burst into the room, breathing heavily.

They looked at her.

She stared back, eyes furrowed at their apparent passivity. She also glanced at the Scepter, hooked up to some kind of monitor with a plethora of wiring.

"You intercom was off." She told Banner, hands on hips.

"I was busy, actually. Running some tests on the Chitauri staff."

"Well, if your intercom had been on, you would have known that our little friend downstairs had some kind of seizure. Instead you were performing _science experiments_."

"A seizure?"

"Yes! Yes, Banner, a seizure. They need you down there! Go!" She snapped, patience running very low indeed.

Bruce Banner took off, and Barton stood where he was, judging Romanoff.

"What?" She challenged sharply.

"You shouldn't do that."

"He should have kept his intercom on."

"You know his condition. He may be with Shield now, but he's not like us, sometimes he needs to keep apart for a while."

"Well, maybe he should be more like us."

"You know his condition."

"The avengers are only as good as the weakest link."

"And what makes you so sure that _he's _the weakest one, Natasha?"

Romanoff began to speak, but bit back her sarcastic remark.

Bruce Banner felt the doom of the situation the very moment he heard the details of what had happened twenty minutes previously. He bit his lip, looking at the screen where Loki's vitals from the incident were displayed.

"First off, we'll need him out of this cell. Can the medic bay be secured?" He questioned, looking up at Rogers.

"Fury won't be happy about this."

"Fury is never happy." Stark put in, wryly.

Thor stood, "Forget security. I will make sure Loki doesn't get into mischief."

"We'll see how far that goes," Banner said, "I'll be able to confirm his condition once we get there. Give him a two hour sleeping dose, and we can get him secured."

Rogers got in contact with Nick Fury, while the rest of the avengers got the unconscious Loki into the med-bay.

Thor positioned himself beside the slumbering god as a kind of guardian. While medical personal dashed about, he remained stationary, brooding beside his brother. His shoulders seemed to sag with the weight of worry.

Banner and Romanoff watched on from a little distance apart.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be so harsh." Romanoff said quietly, tilting her head towards the doctor, but continuing to watch the Asgardians.

"Did…did Thor ever tell you about when Loki fell from the Bifrost?"

"No."

"He told me once, back on the airship. It was bothering him, and he wanted someone to talk to then. I guess I'm a good listener… and people tend to open up around me. Anyway, in Asgard, there is this massive bridge, apparently, leading into the Bifrost through a mechanical device. Once, it broke, and Loki fell from it."

"Accidentally?"

"No. Thor was about to pull him back up, but Loki let go…and fell into this void space. This was after Loki challenged Odin for the Throne, and even though his father and brother offered their assistance to help him, he let it all go."

Banner remained silent for a moment.

"That's the whole story?" She raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"That is as much as Thor knows, yes. But do you know what I think?"

"What?"

"The next time that Loki was heard of again was when he was in league with the Chitauri, so one can safely assume that he found them at the bottom of that void. They gave him the staff, promising him the power to take over Earth, but maybe- just perhaps- they used it on him first."

Romanoff shivered, and wrapped her arms about her waist.

"You mean, like Barton?"

"Do you know what I was doing in the Lab? I found that there was a faint power field being emitted from it. The field barely showed on our sensors- the only way that I realized it was there was through Barton. The energy field goes out in waves, but there are energy echoes that occur when the field comes up against an object that it has a link to, even if it is the faintest of links."

"B-Barton recovered. He was fine- he _is_ fine."

"And yet, when I did one of the tests, his eyes became that blue again. He even got a migraine. Natasha…the very time that I did the test was the same time that Loki, according to your accounts, started to spasm."

"I see."

"I'm not so sure that Loki's army of Chitauri was actually his own. I think he was their pawn. And that link- well, it must still be there."

_Was that his moment of real consciousness?_ "_Don't let it come back" ?_

* * *

Banner spoke to the rest of the group, explaining his theory. When Fury arrived on the scene, he explained it once again, this time over a glass of bourbon.

"Let me get this straight." Stark said, glass in hand, "Reindeer games is an innocent bystander who happened to be used by the evil Chitauri in order to take over earth."

Thor frowned, "I would not say he is innocent, not completely. But the actions that followed his fall from Asgard are likely to be a result of Chitauri manipulation."

" 'Those who live by the sword die by the sword' ." Barton commented.

"Except he's not dead." Rogers put in, "And, if Barton was cured by a strong knock to the head, couldn't the same be done for Loki?"

"It doesn't quite work that way. True, Barton was basically severed from the Scepter's influence, but he is human. And there is still a mild link." Banner replied, pacing.

"Loki is Asgardian," Thor reminded, "The laws for us and for humans are different. My assumption is that it would take much, much more then a knock to his head to lift break such a bond as the bond he must have with that device. But if what Banner says is true, we must attempt to break it."

Nick Fury studied the inside of his glass thoughtfully, then reached for the bottle to refill it. He said, "Then less trouble Loki can get into, the better. We might even be able to convince Asgard of his innocence from that side of the matter, at least. It might be an easy way to get him off our hands, I think."

"What makes you think that he _is_ innocent, though?" Barton put in, and Romanoff nodded, adding, "He may very well have been intending to take over earth anyway."

"That may be the case, but the fact is, he's still under the Chitauri influence, and until that changes, we won't know for sure," replied Fury, "And not that I've had any particularly close calls yet, but I'm not sure that our little setup here at the base will go unnoticed forever. I trust every one of the Shield members here, but this _is _a less-important facility. My frequent presence here will, no doubt, be questioned soon enough. Whatever we do, we need to do it soon. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd like to get a nice long vacation after this is all over. Maybe once the rest of Shield knows that Loki isn't so much of a threat, they'll not over react when I tell my superiors of the little set-up we've got going on. And once _that _happens, I think it will be time to set up communications with Asgard, and let them know that we're not a time-out zone for its misbehaving princelings."

"Here we are…" Jane Foster said, pouring over a diagram in her tablet, "meet Helios."

She tapped her screen, and the diagram shifted onto the glass wall behind her.

"Helios, as in the most advanced astrophysics lab available to Shield. It's every scientist's dream working location, complete with state of the art technology, and a vast archive of information and resources on hand. It is exactly what we need for breaking Loki's link."

"It sounds perfect." Stark said, "When are we leaving?"

"I'm afraid it is going to be a little more complex then that." Steve spoke, and Foster tapped her tablet again. The image on the screen morphed from the basic outlay of the building to a three dimensional figure, formed by white light. It portrayed the facility in all its glory, but Steve Rogers stood, and gestured at the projection.

"Helios it an island base, located off the coast of Washington state. It also happens to be one of Shield's most heavily guarded facilities as well."

The Avengers looked on as Rogers marked out various points, which were illuminated with each touch.

"Up until this point, the security should be simple enough. Personal, vehicles or boats with a yellow code clearance can make it up to here, but beyond, things get tougher. Besides our Asgardian friends, all of us have clearance up to blue, enough to make it to our final destination-"

"The Daedalus Lab." Foster interjected.

"But- having even a few key Avengers signed into the facility will surely cause some serious suspicions." Barton stated warily, studying the projection.

"Which is why this is going to be a lot more difficult then one would think. Officially, Jane Foster and Doctor Banner will be the only ones of us at Helios. They will be visiting the Laboratories to help conduct some research on Chitauri specimen, but along with the equipment, they'll be bringing in a few extra person-sized crates. "I'll be in one of them, but Romanoff and Thor, how do you feel about cramped spaces?" Rogers questioned, turning to them.

Thor appeared slightly displeased, but replied, "I will bare this displeasure for the sake of the mission." Natasha took the assignment with a little more willingness.

"Good. In order to work in the Daedelus Laboratory undetected, we'll need to scramble some readings from the island parameter and underwater. Barton, I'm going to need you skirting the facility- here. And Stark, can you hack into the systems here?"

Stark nodded, as did Barton, but spoke up, "And when is this party going down?"

"I'll need to conduct a few preliminary tests on Loki here, but I think we can be out of here within the next 48 hours," said Bruce Banner.

The group split, leaving to make preparations for the mission, leaving Romanoff alone. She sat, cracking her knuckles with anticipation of action.

**I am a horrible, horrible person. I don't keep my promises. I get caught up in my own problems, and I lack consideration for the people to which I promise things. I haven't uploaded a chapter in a shamefully long time, and you, readers, have every right to metaphorically tar and feather me. My only excuse is that I changed schools in January, and even that isn't a ****_good_**** excuse. So this is me, saying sorry. Feel free to give me grief in a review. I deserve it.**

**-Pandorica**


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